Thalassa
Asta's warmth twines with the scent of smoke, his heartbeat a soft melody to lull her suffering. Her head nods in quiet confirmation, pained to hear someone else say the words aloud. It makes it all the more real, like a death sentence read by a judge, eliminating that last thread of hope that she hadn't thought existed. While it stabs through her, the slice is clean and merciful, a surgically precise severing of that lingering hope, sending her falling into the water below. It doesn't take away the aching wounds or numb emptiness, but it removes one of the small pieces that had tugged torturously at her heart.
It makes it easier to talk as he says all the things she'd once thought, having convinced herself not to let people close, not to be vulnerable by making friends or anything more not to be weak. Yet... "Pierce was different." The past tense scrapes against her heart, sharp and undeniable. Wincing, Thal runs her fingers over the jagged stones of the pendant, the tangible reminder he'd unnecessarily left her with when that hollowness will never leave her. "Our bond..." she swallows, unable to describe what is it they'd had - what it is that now sits empty - but knowing more than anything, "it hurts."
She lets Asta move them, her forehead resting limp against his as the rain falls around them, everything becoming blissfully quiet for a moment. There's a determination in his voice that she wishes she shared, a certainty that this will pass, and a conviction that she'll be stronger in the end. It sounds impossible when she feels so weak and broken.
Looking desperately into his dark eyes, she does her best to borrow some of his faith, a quiet whimper proving her failure to do so. "How?"
It makes it easier to talk as he says all the things she'd once thought, having convinced herself not to let people close, not to be vulnerable by making friends or anything more not to be weak. Yet... "Pierce was different." The past tense scrapes against her heart, sharp and undeniable. Wincing, Thal runs her fingers over the jagged stones of the pendant, the tangible reminder he'd unnecessarily left her with when that hollowness will never leave her. "Our bond..." she swallows, unable to describe what is it they'd had - what it is that now sits empty - but knowing more than anything, "it hurts."
She lets Asta move them, her forehead resting limp against his as the rain falls around them, everything becoming blissfully quiet for a moment. There's a determination in his voice that she wishes she shared, a certainty that this will pass, and a conviction that she'll be stronger in the end. It sounds impossible when she feels so weak and broken.
Looking desperately into his dark eyes, she does her best to borrow some of his faith, a quiet whimper proving her failure to do so. "How?"
Walk with me to the end
Stare with me into the abyss
Stare with me into the abyss
