KOA
He didn't want a medal, Flora.
He only wanted you.
Something happened. I was hurt. A chill rushes up through Koa's body, the sharp edge of his pain briefly dulled. "Are you--?" okay? the Dragoon begins to interject, a hand raising upwards, a step half-taken towards her, all anger forgotten in a surge of concern, of protectiveness over the Doubletake. But then the second half's revealed, and Koa's heart and movements falter, frozen in a wave of guilt. Jack (that was his name) had been there, and had been there again, when Flora almost---
"You what?" He isn't sure what feels worst. The plunging, icy stream of terror, to learn she'd nearly died? The red-hot wound to the chip on his shoulder, guilt and inadequacy that he hadn't been there, hadn't even known the danger she faced? Or the bitter slap that is realizing there's someone else who had? That Flora's life is full of other people, better people, people she chooses to turn to and trust?
His voice is dry and tired and cracking; he's reaching his breaking point. "I didn't- I didn't know. You never told me." Which is terribly unfair, of course, but then again, so is life. "I would have--" Have what? Come to Torchline, hours later? Held her in the aftermath? It hadn't been him he'd taken her fear to, hadn't been his arms she'd sought comfort in. He hadn't been there, and so he'd lost.
"I think I need to go." He isn't looking at her, can't look at her, because to see her tear-stained face and trembling shoulders would break his heart all over again. Koa's arms shake with the urge to wrap them around Flora, to pull her close against his chest and carry all her pain.
But that's not his job anymore, is it? She's chosen someone to be her protector, and it isn't him. Closing his eyes, Koa inhales a long, steadying, and stuttering breath. "I don't... I can't keep doing this, Flora. It..." It hurts too much. "Here--" He thrusts the fistful of sunflowers toward her, their stems thoroughly crushed by his iron-tight grip. "I'm sorry."
He only wanted you.
Something happened. I was hurt. A chill rushes up through Koa's body, the sharp edge of his pain briefly dulled. "Are you--?" okay? the Dragoon begins to interject, a hand raising upwards, a step half-taken towards her, all anger forgotten in a surge of concern, of protectiveness over the Doubletake. But then the second half's revealed, and Koa's heart and movements falter, frozen in a wave of guilt. Jack (that was his name) had been there, and had been there again, when Flora almost---
"You what?" He isn't sure what feels worst. The plunging, icy stream of terror, to learn she'd nearly died? The red-hot wound to the chip on his shoulder, guilt and inadequacy that he hadn't been there, hadn't even known the danger she faced? Or the bitter slap that is realizing there's someone else who had? That Flora's life is full of other people, better people, people she chooses to turn to and trust?
His voice is dry and tired and cracking; he's reaching his breaking point. "I didn't- I didn't know. You never told me." Which is terribly unfair, of course, but then again, so is life. "I would have--" Have what? Come to Torchline, hours later? Held her in the aftermath? It hadn't been him he'd taken her fear to, hadn't been his arms she'd sought comfort in. He hadn't been there, and so he'd lost.
"I think I need to go." He isn't looking at her, can't look at her, because to see her tear-stained face and trembling shoulders would break his heart all over again. Koa's arms shake with the urge to wrap them around Flora, to pull her close against his chest and carry all her pain.
But that's not his job anymore, is it? She's chosen someone to be her protector, and it isn't him. Closing his eyes, Koa inhales a long, steadying, and stuttering breath. "I don't... I can't keep doing this, Flora. It..." It hurts too much. "Here--" He thrusts the fistful of sunflowers toward her, their stems thoroughly crushed by his iron-tight grip. "I'm sorry."
With each love I cut loose, I was never the same
Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame
Watching still living roots be consumed by the flame
