(oof, sorry for keeping you up so late)
Ilya relaxed slightly, hands uncurling from Vaughn's shirt to wrap around his back and keep him close. He looked up at him after a few seconds, searching for any hint of a lie- any speck of insincerity that would prove that he was giving out empty offers. He found none. "Promise?"
(nooo no it’s ok, i usually always stay up late anyways)
When Ilya looked up at him, Vaughn’s gaze met the others. He could see the anxiety. The worry and the hope. His hand that had been toying gently with Ilya’s hair now moved to cup his jaw gingerly, thumb resting against Ilya’s chin. “I promise,” he confirmed with a sure nod of his head.
(lol. in that case, i'm glad I can help entertain you)
Ilya's breath hitched in his throat and he found himself blinking to keep tears from falling. Something about the way Vaughn said it, the way he was so sure Ilya would be taken care of, made a small dark part of Ilya finally unwind. He leaned into Vaughn's hand, comforted by the hold. "Thank you."
(lmao yeah, i don’t mind staying up late so this is good)
Vaughn’s thumb rubbed against Ilya’s chin gently for a moment longer as Ilya leaned into the touch. “You’re welcome,” he murmured softly. “Feel any better?” he asked afterwards. He shifted where he sat, wondering if he should move back to the other side.
Ilya sniffled and wiped at his eyes, nodding as well as he could with Vaughn's hand on his face. The arms around Vaughn's middle tightened almost imperceptibly as he shifted. "Please stay like this, just for a little longer. You make me feel… better."
Vaughn dropped his hand from Ilya’s face, not wanting to possibly get blood on him. He rested that hand on his own thigh instead, adjusting his grip around Ilya. “Ok, ok, I’ll stay,” he responded softly.
"Thank you," Ilya mumbled, face hidden in Vaughn's shoulder again. Once he had calmed down enough that thinking about life outside this moment no longer made him want to burst into tears, he pulled away. A blush coated his cheeks, bright and ashamed. "I'm sorry. I… um… I didn't mean to… to…" He groaned in frustration, unable to force out the right words.
“Don’t be sorry- why are you apologizing?” Vaughn asked, arching a brow in question. He tilted his head to look down at Ilya with a confused expression on his face.
"I freaked out and I made you comfort me and I… I ordered you around." His tone darkened at the last one like it was unforgivable because under Damian's roof it was. Disobeying the unsaid rules was bad, but outright telling Damian to do something was a cardinal sin. "I shouldn't have. It was wrong."
Vaughn frowned as he tugged Ilya closer to him. “You just asked me to do something. I don’t mind that you did, it’s ok. It’s ok to ask someone to do something,” he responded. “Besides, you didn’t make me do anything.”
"But… but I'm not supposed to," he protested weakly, leaning into Vaughn with a confused frown. He clenched Vaughn's shirt in his fists more tightly, grateful for the support. "It's bad. It's… impudent. And bratty. And impolite."
Vaughn reached up to tilt Ilya’s head back up to look at him in the eyes. “It’s not a bad thing. You’re allowed to ask for things just like anyone else is allowed to,” he said, hoping the direct contact would get across the fact that he was serious
Ilya leaned into the touch instinctively, wide bewildered eyes staring into Vaughn's sincere grey ones. It hurt to realize how badly he'd been treated by Damian, but the warmth of Vaughn's hands soothed the sting. They soothed everything. "I am? You're sure?"
“I’m 100 percent sure. It’s totally normal. You’re just.. not used to it because of your situation,” Vaughn said, his thumb brushing over Ilya’s cheek gently. He held Ilya’s gaze, despite his urge to fidget or twitch.
Ilya felt himself tearing up again and despite his efforts, fat tears began to roll down his cheeks. He took a long shuddering breath, trying to force air into his uncooperative lungs. "Why did he do this to me? Am I really that… that bad?"
Vaughn noticed the tears instantly, and he quickly picked up one of the napkins on the table, holding Ilya’s face in one hand while he wiped the tears away with the other gently. “It’s not your fault, Ilya. He’s just a bad person, it has never been your fault.”
Ilya sniffled and wiped at his eyes, not wanting to force Vaughn to take care of him. "But he was so nice at first. He cared. And then…" He paused, taking another shaky breath. "And then we fought and he got so mean. It was my fault. I was bad and… and now I'm being punished."
“It’s ok, let me do that,” Vaughn mumbled softly in response to Ilya wiping at his eyes. “Abusers will do that. It’s called grooming. They’ll be very sweet and loving to a person to get them to be vulnerable. Then while the person is in that state, they do a 180 and go to being abusive. It’s a tactic they use to keep a person from thinking they need help.”
Ilya dropped his hands as soon as Vaughn told him to, curling them up in his hoodie. He wanted to look down again, to pretend that he wasn't having his entire world turned upside down, but Vaughn wanted to wipe the tears off his cheeks and Ilya didn't have the heart to stop him. "You really think it… it wasn't my fault? That all… all this happened?"
Vaughn continued to brush the tears away with the napkin, his other hand gently caressing Ilya’s jaw. “I’m 100 percent sure this is not your fault. I have seen a lot of this sort of thing. It’s normal as someone who is being abused to think it’s your fault, when really, it’s all the abuser.”
It was strange to hear and even stranger to believe. Every day for the last 2 years, Ilya had been told that this was his fault. That Damian wouldn't have to do this if he were obedient. And now Vaughn was here, all wise words and warmth. Ilya slowly stopped crying, feeling hot and squirmy in Vaughn's hands. He fiddled with the sleeves of the hoodie. "Promise?"
When Ilya had stopped crying, Vaughn set the napkin back down on the table. He gave Ilya a tiny smile as he nodded his head in confirmation. “Yes, I promise. It’s all a form of manipulation by Damian, it’s not you’re fault.”
Ilya let out a quiet breath he didn't know he was holding, relieved. He slowly wrapped his arms around Vaughn's back again, managing to give him a watery smile in return. "Thank you for… for letting me know. I… It's helpful. To know what's real."
Vaughn’s hand left Ilya’s cheek, and he wrapped the arm around Ilya’s waist gingerly. “Of course, you’re welcome. That’s what I’m here for- to help,” he responded. “Now, how about we get that pie?” he asked afterwards, hoping that would lighten the mood.
Ilya frowned when Vaughn pulled away from his face, but he leaned into the arm around him with a contented hum. He listened to Vaughns words with a thoughtful expression- one that lit up when pie was mentioned. "I'd like that!"