Her reassurance that everyone is finding themselves, not just him, removes a curl of tension from his gut. He'd thought as much, but hearing her say it did more than his thoughts ever could. He listens as she goes on, quiet in a way that lets the weight of her words settle, tracing them into thought and understanding. “A maze instead of a pit…” he echoes, liking that better. A maze had options and directions, and it didn't remind him so much of shoveling out this hot spring.
A faint groan escapes him, half-joking, half-exhausted just imagining it, as she explains there's really no release from the maze, other than death he supposes. “No top, no end, just... emotional cardio forever? That kinda sounds awful.” He’s still smiling when he says it, and there’s something gentler to his tone now, like the pressure has shifted from something crushing to something—maybe—not so hopeless. Not an admittance of all his lost time and poor choices, just the reality that they are part of the journey, however twisted it might be.
“That's the hard part, huh? Learning how to sit in the dark. Learning how to gather the light again.” Not running from either, not if you could help it. His hand plays with the surface of the water a bit, distracting himself with the heat and the feeling of the surface breaking under touch, something that's easier to handle than all the shades and routes of existence. "You figured that part out yet?" he asks he, glancing back up to her face, studying for a moment, as if he might see some of her maze corners.
A faint groan escapes him, half-joking, half-exhausted just imagining it, as she explains there's really no release from the maze, other than death he supposes. “No top, no end, just... emotional cardio forever? That kinda sounds awful.” He’s still smiling when he says it, and there’s something gentler to his tone now, like the pressure has shifted from something crushing to something—maybe—not so hopeless. Not an admittance of all his lost time and poor choices, just the reality that they are part of the journey, however twisted it might be.
“That's the hard part, huh? Learning how to sit in the dark. Learning how to gather the light again.” Not running from either, not if you could help it. His hand plays with the surface of the water a bit, distracting himself with the heat and the feeling of the surface breaking under touch, something that's easier to handle than all the shades and routes of existence. "You figured that part out yet?" he asks he, glancing back up to her face, studying for a moment, as if he might see some of her maze corners.
Iskra
