Cans. Not nearly large enough. Not for what he's thinking. And no handle, he'll have to either burn his hand holding it, if it burns as hot as he means it to, or risk damaging one of the mittens that he's been so careful to keep in good condition all this time.
It's his own fault. He should have anticipated needing to do this. But he hadn't wanted to. Hasn't wanted to practice it at all. And so he hadn't thought he'd need to. Hadn't thought Francis would need him to. He hadn't wanted to think it.
"It'll have to," he says in a flat voice, then turns and looks around for Francis' pack, moves with quick, efficient movements to find a can inside it and straightens up. He looks down into it. In the sick green light, the hollow inside looks as deep and dark as everything else. He wants to tap his fingers, his feet. He sets the can down and takes the mittens off him instead, puts them in the pockets of the blanket, takes that off and the parka beneath it. He holds the parka out to Francis, frowning and impatient and unwilling to get the precious thing dirty by putting it onto the ground.
"You'll have to stay back," he says, already starting to shiver. It isn't dangerous to be cold right now, he thinks, or Francis wouldn't have offered this to Raju instead of wearing it himself. It only feels terrible. And it'll be easier this way than it would warm and comfortable, the way he can very nearly be with what he's forced to call warmer temperatures and Francis' fine, odd coat on top of that as one of all of Raju's layers. He won't take something so valuable of Francis' only to risk burning it by keeping it on crossing that bridge. And it would be harder to do what he needs to, feeling like that. "But it'll burn bright enough to keep you safe. I have to make sure it... stays in the right place."
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2024-06-07 12:53 pm (UTC)It's his own fault. He should have anticipated needing to do this. But he hadn't wanted to. Hasn't wanted to practice it at all. And so he hadn't thought he'd need to. Hadn't thought Francis would need him to. He hadn't wanted to think it.
"It'll have to," he says in a flat voice, then turns and looks around for Francis' pack, moves with quick, efficient movements to find a can inside it and straightens up. He looks down into it. In the sick green light, the hollow inside looks as deep and dark as everything else. He wants to tap his fingers, his feet. He sets the can down and takes the mittens off him instead, puts them in the pockets of the blanket, takes that off and the parka beneath it. He holds the parka out to Francis, frowning and impatient and unwilling to get the precious thing dirty by putting it onto the ground.
"You'll have to stay back," he says, already starting to shiver. It isn't dangerous to be cold right now, he thinks, or Francis wouldn't have offered this to Raju instead of wearing it himself. It only feels terrible. And it'll be easier this way than it would warm and comfortable, the way he can very nearly be with what he's forced to call warmer temperatures and Francis' fine, odd coat on top of that as one of all of Raju's layers. He won't take something so valuable of Francis' only to risk burning it by keeping it on crossing that bridge. And it would be harder to do what he needs to, feeling like that. "But it'll burn bright enough to keep you safe. I have to make sure it... stays in the right place."