Zavien
Fear is pain arising from the anticipation of evil.
Zavien didn't want to see Lena's reaction, to hear what words she might say. If she were anyone else, he would have dismissed everything with a joke, disguising the hurt and pain behind a facade to reassure them. But she weakened his willpower, making the mask feel like a lie poisoning his heart. He didn't want to hide anything from her, but he didn't know if he was strong enough to show her everything. How could he taint her gentle, comforting personality with all of this darkness? He didn't want her to know the fear coursing through his body, or the guilt eating away at his heart. How he'd accepted the death with a content smile only to be brought back to relive the memory over and over. How everything felt different now - real. Or that he felt like a failure. How could he tell her that?
The trailing of her fingers barely registered in his mind, but the skin shivered from frayed, oversensitive nerves, spreading uncomfortable tingles across his side. Although he didn't flinch, his jaw tightened, waiting for her to finish her assessment of the damage. She seemed to comprehend his meaning, rightfully confused by the conflicting evidence before her. Zavien let his shirt fall as he steeled himself for the second half of the tale. He leaned forward again, the hand that he ran through his hair catching in his rough grasp, further disheveling the blonde strands. "Sunjata... he - he had a feather." It sounded stupid to say aloud, like a child stumbling through why them liking the color green had anything to do with why they were covered in dirt. His head shook, still somewhat baffled by the specifics of his revival. "Something called a 'revivify feather,' I think." Perhaps she had heard of it, confirming what he still had yet to say aloud, but he bit his lip sharply before clarifying, "It - it brought me back." The words strained out through the tightening of his throat, emotion constricting the airway in a way that he'd rarely experienced. He couldn't find the strength to smile again as a deep breath pushed back the swell of anxiety that had built up the last few days. Gods, had it only been a few days?
He wanted to tell her how he couldn't sleep without seeing how the darkness resembled the void of death. That he worried he may not be strong enough to stand against the Family, or the fact that he was more willing to embrace death again than face the risk of losing her. How he was only able to smile in the end because of her, and everyone he cared about. His second chance at life reminded him of all the things he had yet to say or do while cruelly highlighting his powerlessness.
But he didn't say that. He wouldn't burden her with that knowledge right now. Maybe one day, when the wounds weren't so fresh.
For now, Zavien glanced at Lena before looking away again, trying to recompose himself to continue. The shaky breath he stole slid the pained smile back in place now that the topic had moved past his own struggles. "The others... succeeded without me in the end. Soh was injured and Sascha was killed, but Alys and Mel made it out..." He didn't know what else to say, staring at the kneading of his hands. They were starting to hurt, but it was something to do, a way to feel what little strength and control he had.
The trailing of her fingers barely registered in his mind, but the skin shivered from frayed, oversensitive nerves, spreading uncomfortable tingles across his side. Although he didn't flinch, his jaw tightened, waiting for her to finish her assessment of the damage. She seemed to comprehend his meaning, rightfully confused by the conflicting evidence before her. Zavien let his shirt fall as he steeled himself for the second half of the tale. He leaned forward again, the hand that he ran through his hair catching in his rough grasp, further disheveling the blonde strands. "Sunjata... he - he had a feather." It sounded stupid to say aloud, like a child stumbling through why them liking the color green had anything to do with why they were covered in dirt. His head shook, still somewhat baffled by the specifics of his revival. "Something called a 'revivify feather,' I think." Perhaps she had heard of it, confirming what he still had yet to say aloud, but he bit his lip sharply before clarifying, "It - it brought me back." The words strained out through the tightening of his throat, emotion constricting the airway in a way that he'd rarely experienced. He couldn't find the strength to smile again as a deep breath pushed back the swell of anxiety that had built up the last few days. Gods, had it only been a few days?
He wanted to tell her how he couldn't sleep without seeing how the darkness resembled the void of death. That he worried he may not be strong enough to stand against the Family, or the fact that he was more willing to embrace death again than face the risk of losing her. How he was only able to smile in the end because of her, and everyone he cared about. His second chance at life reminded him of all the things he had yet to say or do while cruelly highlighting his powerlessness.
But he didn't say that. He wouldn't burden her with that knowledge right now. Maybe one day, when the wounds weren't so fresh.
For now, Zavien glanced at Lena before looking away again, trying to recompose himself to continue. The shaky breath he stole slid the pained smile back in place now that the topic had moved past his own struggles. "The others... succeeded without me in the end. Soh was injured and Sascha was killed, but Alys and Mel made it out..." He didn't know what else to say, staring at the kneading of his hands. They were starting to hurt, but it was something to do, a way to feel what little strength and control he had.
