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The floorboards in the hallway creak. So much for approaching quietly. Valentino stands there outside the door for a moment, as if second-guessing his decision to knock. His fingers nervously twist themselves in his pockets. His mind echoes with the inky words and misconstrued rumors floating around the grounds. Blood-drinking vampire. Probably possessed. Guilty murderer. His hands clench into fists. How dare anyone think such things about Ilario.
How can they? They don't even know him.
Not like he does.
He knocks, finally. Two very shaky, light raps. There's no answer. He doesn't expect one, either.
"Ilario?" he says quietly after a moment, "It's, um. Me. Valentino."
Again, he's met with silence.
"I'm going to come in, okay?"
There is no verbal permission granted. But there's no verbal refusal, either.
Carefully, Valentino opens the door. The room is dim, the curtains closed, even though it's in the late afternoon. He doesn't notice the small pile of clothes kicked into the corner, doesn't notice the slightly musty smell of the room. His eyes are immediately drawn to the bed, or rather, the curled up form that's lying on it.
"Ilario," Valentino ventures nervously, "Have you been like this all day?"
"..."
Valentino lets out a slow, quiet sigh, not out of annoyance, but out of worry. "Okay. Well.. I'm going to take your clothes so that they can be washed, including what you're wearing. In an hour or so, I'll bring you some supper."
The crumpled form on the bed still doesn't move. Valentino can't feel anything but sympathy, and some form of grief that he can't quite parse yet. In spite of his nervousness, he carefully sits on the bed next to Ilario, the wood creaking under his light weight.
"I um.. I don't know what you're feeling right now. You don't talk much so I just don't know. And that's okay, you don't have to talk, just.. I want to care for you, however I can. We all do. And right now, I just think that wearing some clean clothes might make you feel better, okay?"
The little mass of rumpled clothing on the bed finally moves, Ilario turning his head to look at Valentino. His dark eyes have even darker circles under them, a sight Valentino sees too often when looking at his own face. But he sees a small nod from Ilario. It's progress.
"Thank you. Um.. I can, uh, wait for you to get changed?"
A hand sticks out towards Valentino, a silent plea for a little help. He gently takes Ilario's hand in his, and stands up, before gently pulling Ilario to a sitting position. "There you go," he says gently, "Good. This is good."
Almost regrettably, he has to let go of Ilario's hand, so that he can turn to the wardrobe in the corner of the room. He rummages through it, Ilario never having been one to organize his clothes nicely. After a few minutes of sifting, Valentino manages to find a comfortable pair of pants and soft, loose shirt. He turns back around only to see Ilario pulling his shirt over his head, right at the moment that the fabric catches on the bandages covering his right cheek, pulling them off of his wounds. Ilario winces. Valentino barely even notices himself rushing over to him.
"Here. Let me." He helps Ilario remove the shirt before tending to the bandages. They're loose, and probably need to be removed at this point. When was the last time they were changed? He doesn't know. He should know. He should have been the one doing this all along.
Ilario seems hesitant to let Valentino touch the bandages, as if he doesn't want him to look at what lies underneath.
"I won't hurt you," Valentino says quietly, in a voice much steadier than he thought possible, "I'm not afraid of what's underneath. I want to help you. I'm sorry if it stings a little."
To undo the bandages, Valentino has to unravel the entire thing. They're wound around Ilario's head, bandages across his nose and everything. Valentino is gentle. He's grateful to see that there's no blood seeping through. The wounds are deep, but they're healing.
"There you are," Valentino murmurs softly, as he finally removes the last bandage, "I've missed you." He hesitates at first, but reaches a hand towards Ilario's face. Slowly, giving him time to reject it, if he doesn't want to be touched.
He allows it.
Valentino fingertips lightly touch the thick, scabbed wounds on Ilario's cheek, only for a brief second, before gently cupping his face into his palms. "There you are," he says again, this time as a whisper. His thumb gently brushes Ilario's cheekbone, and he watches as Ilario practically melts into his touch. Letting his face rest in Valentino's hands. He closes his eyes, just allowing Valentino to hold him, to be intimate with him like this, like they always have. It's different now, and yet still the same as it ever was.