[ He stills at her kiss, unnaturally so, like his body needs to reboot to process what just happened. His eyes blink back open, staring at nothing; his forehead still pressed into her body. And then he nods, slow but certain, at the assurance that he can reach out to her whenever. Yeah. Of course.
But his brow furrows when she apologizes, because it's not like she did anything wrong. What would she need to apologize for? But at the same time he brings his other arm up and around her, equally as broken and on display as his first one. He wraps it around the small of her back, using both of his arms to press her further into him. He wants her in closer— he wants to use his strength on her— something shifts in him, a dawning awareness as to why he'd instinctually reached out to her, a compatible aspect, a Meridian... ]
There's nothing to talk about. [ The answer is mumbled into her; he should pull up and actually look at her, but something instinctual is telling him to keep pressing her body into his.
Fuck it; he'll just switch to communion, dark and empty and where she'll be able to pick up on his despair far easier — an unintentional move on his part because really, he just wants to better communicate with her. ] There was a fucking monster wreaking havoc in Highstorm. It had a kid embedded in it. Kid was attached to the monster, so when I put it down the kid died too. That's it. Can't fucking do anything about it now.
[ Because he'd left before thinking to collect any shards, hurting so badly it had left him dazed; left him with only a flight response. That hurt is still there, even if he can't acknowledge it, because he's been doing his best to bury it under nothing and nothing and more nothing ever since he caught a whiff of it.
He doesn't want to fucking hurt, so he won't. He won't. He won't.
He squeezes Quetzalcoatl's body tighter to his own. ]
I think you can fix me.
[ A normal thing to say — but also a sincerely held belief, even if he isn't quite capable of articulating why. And at this point, putting his body back together is all he has left. ]
no subject
But his brow furrows when she apologizes, because it's not like she did anything wrong. What would she need to apologize for? But at the same time he brings his other arm up and around her, equally as broken and on display as his first one. He wraps it around the small of her back, using both of his arms to press her further into him. He wants her in closer— he wants to use his strength on her— something shifts in him, a dawning awareness as to why he'd instinctually reached out to her, a compatible aspect, a Meridian... ]
There's nothing to talk about. [ The answer is mumbled into her; he should pull up and actually look at her, but something instinctual is telling him to keep pressing her body into his.
Fuck it; he'll just switch to communion, dark and empty and where she'll be able to pick up on his despair far easier — an unintentional move on his part because really, he just wants to better communicate with her. ] There was a fucking monster wreaking havoc in Highstorm. It had a kid embedded in it. Kid was attached to the monster, so when I put it down the kid died too. That's it. Can't fucking do anything about it now.
[ Because he'd left before thinking to collect any shards, hurting so badly it had left him dazed; left him with only a flight response. That hurt is still there, even if he can't acknowledge it, because he's been doing his best to bury it under nothing and nothing and more nothing ever since he caught a whiff of it.
He doesn't want to fucking hurt, so he won't. He won't. He won't.
He squeezes Quetzalcoatl's body tighter to his own. ]
I think you can fix me.
[ A normal thing to say — but also a sincerely held belief, even if he isn't quite capable of articulating why. And at this point, putting his body back together is all he has left. ]