[ he cannot feel the sharpness of gils finger as it pokes and presses against his heart, but the pressure is there, the pressure of his gaze the only thing heavier than the prodding finger as his voice rumbles in anger, shouting down at him with his frustrations and absolutions like the great cedar tree he claims to be.

He's not used to being shouted at like this. Certainly he's angered people before with his pranks or his cons; but that'd all been the shouts of people who'd fallen for his tricks and schemes. this was different; it was the anger and grief of someone who is skirting the edges of losing someone--something precious to them and coming to terms with the fact that all the money in the world might not be enough to see that thing saved.

Sam is scared. But so is Gilgamesh.
A gentle sound escapes his throat when the man joins him in his boiling hot vat of water, and much like the prodding, even if he can't feel the sensation of the hug, the pressure is heavy and crushing--and through everything, this is all he'd wanted.

And his shoulders shake as his resolve and calm finally breaks, and Samuel Kovac finally allows himself to cry; arms moving around gil to lock the man against him, despite how he's fully clothed and now slowly going to get soaking wet alongside him.

He buries his face into his neck and the tears that fall from his eyes are nearly as hot as the water itself, stinging his eyes and forcing them to close even if he can't feel the sensation of the sting itself. ]

I would stand in the pouring rain and let it soak me down to the bone if it mean the cedar tree would reach its branches out to hold me.

[ please understand him this time. ]