Don't paint wonderful lies on me that wash away
She didn't make much sense to herself either. Maea was a tumble of emotions, of thoughts and concepts and ideals, and she turned them over in her head like pieces of a puzzle, trying to fit each and every one to this thing they had, this connection that they did share, just to see what kind of picture it might create. What were they? It was a question she had asked before, and not been given an answer two. And in a very painful, very roundabout way, they were both asking it again now.
What are we? What do we want to become?
Even drunk as she was, her eyes saw clearly the pain in him, the fear and frustration. And it pained her to see him so broken, knowing that she might not be able to heal him, not the way she wanted to. If she could, she would gather up all these pieces of him, body heart and soul and fit them back together, love him until the cracks faded and he became whole again.
But... he might not want that. And... and if he didn't, then nothing she said or did would be enough.
Swallowing, she drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her own surging emotions. Gods, this was hard. It was painful, to hear him say that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She had doubted it too though, so... so he was allowed to.
"Let's... let's forget about who deserves what, for a moment." Hands fell down from his face, to rest gently on his shoulders. Over the compasses etched into his skin, hiding them away, so that for a moment, the arrows didn't point anywhere at all. "Forget for a moment everything that could go wrong.
"If... if you close your eyes, and picture yourself anywhere at all. At the VlamVloed, at the Slagveld, on a road going off to nowhere... Then you imagine those places with me in the picture. And without.
"Is there a difference, at all? Would my presence, or absence change anything? That's where you start."
What are we? What do we want to become?
Even drunk as she was, her eyes saw clearly the pain in him, the fear and frustration. And it pained her to see him so broken, knowing that she might not be able to heal him, not the way she wanted to. If she could, she would gather up all these pieces of him, body heart and soul and fit them back together, love him until the cracks faded and he became whole again.
But... he might not want that. And... and if he didn't, then nothing she said or did would be enough.
Swallowing, she drew in a deep breath and tried to calm her own surging emotions. Gods, this was hard. It was painful, to hear him say that maybe this wasn't such a good idea after all. She had doubted it too though, so... so he was allowed to.
"Let's... let's forget about who deserves what, for a moment." Hands fell down from his face, to rest gently on his shoulders. Over the compasses etched into his skin, hiding them away, so that for a moment, the arrows didn't point anywhere at all. "Forget for a moment everything that could go wrong.
"If... if you close your eyes, and picture yourself anywhere at all. At the VlamVloed, at the Slagveld, on a road going off to nowhere... Then you imagine those places with me in the picture. And without.
"Is there a difference, at all? Would my presence, or absence change anything? That's where you start."
