food in the woodsen

Zavien

Strike hands with me. The glass is brim.
The dew is on the heather.

Koa's response has him jolting in his seat, his beer sloshing a little as he tries to squint through the haze of alcohol at his friend. He doesn't want to die again, but logic doesn't really make sense when the thoughts all run together. It makes the scrunch of his eyes look a lot like confusion as he says, "Idunnoman. Dyin'kindasucked, but atleas'myheartdidn'thurt." Sure, he'd been torn almost literally in two, skewered like an appetizer on the yeti's claws, but there was something different about the living kind of pain that dug deeper and hurt more, reaching the soul without needing more than a stray thought. 

Clinging to Koa like his own desperation, he doesn't fight the hug and leans his forehead on the Dragoon's shoulder as he lets out a low, drunken groan. "I know...." Because relationships aren't set in stone, and as much of a victory it was to start dating, that didn't mean it gets any easier to stay dating. No matter how much one side wants to make things work, sometimes things just don't work out. Or as Koa says: they don't work. 

It's a terrifying thought that Zavien doesn't want to address, the idea that the person he loves might not be able to give him what he needs to feel loved in return. But he sucks at words, at explaining what emotional thing he thinks he needs - so even if 'talking' sounds like the perfect solution, he doesn't even know how to go about doing it. 

Another low groan leaves him, and he's lucky Koa's holding his limp form as he wallows. "I wish it wass tha' easy..."

And love is good, and life is long,
and friends are best together.