I'm not giving up, kicking off the rust
"EwwWWww!" he drags out the word suddenly at the feel of her tongue, like a clamshell that's been picked up and still has an occupant. His hand whips back like she's bitten him, and his expression is at once contorted with disgust. It's such at odds with all the determined refusal of her guilt and the blistering worry over her grief that his laugh comes swift and real for the first time since entering the room. He swipes the remaining slobber off on his leg. "Gods you're gross," he complains with zero heart to it.
The humor fades soon enough though when she drops that she would too, and it seals something golden and grateful in his chest, even if it shouldn't. His gaze is softened with the meaning of it all, an ache he recognizes but can't appease. She tucks into the folds of her dress like a flower at dusk, and he thinks it's still the weight of the blame she's trying to wear, instead of a reflection of all his same wants. "I know, I know," he huffs out, "I'm well aware we can't undo the past." He won't bother her with the idea of choosing to do it again anew, not when they said nothing changes in the morning light.
He sighs audibly at her admirable way of trying to drive every knife in the world into her heart to keep everyone else from getting cut. "Doesn't that make me even worse, for not stopping?" he asks with the hollow ring of someone who has already been marked by the blade. Why have both them bleed over this? "All your reasons Flora, they're that much heavier weighed in my decision. Don't make yourself an enemy too, it won't help anything."
The humor fades soon enough though when she drops that she would too, and it seals something golden and grateful in his chest, even if it shouldn't. His gaze is softened with the meaning of it all, an ache he recognizes but can't appease. She tucks into the folds of her dress like a flower at dusk, and he thinks it's still the weight of the blame she's trying to wear, instead of a reflection of all his same wants. "I know, I know," he huffs out, "I'm well aware we can't undo the past." He won't bother her with the idea of choosing to do it again anew, not when they said nothing changes in the morning light.
He sighs audibly at her admirable way of trying to drive every knife in the world into her heart to keep everyone else from getting cut. "Doesn't that make me even worse, for not stopping?" he asks with the hollow ring of someone who has already been marked by the blade. Why have both them bleed over this? "All your reasons Flora, they're that much heavier weighed in my decision. Don't make yourself an enemy too, it won't help anything."
Kaisel
I keep acting tough but maybe I'm not good enough
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
