KAISEL
So, you wanna start a war?
Bang, shots fired
Bang, shots fired
The forced smile lands heavy in his chest, because he can see it for what it is, the same way she pulls her hand back, folding all that pain into something cold and neat that she can put on like armor. He tries not to let it sink any deeper than that recognition, tries not to let it itch like failure, though it seems like every time someone actually needs him to say or do the right thing, he only manages to force them to withdraw further. Sometimes sprinkles just aren't enough to make something better.
So he lets her retreat, because sometimes that’s the only way people can keep standing. Still, his eyes stay on her, steady and unwilling to let her crawl back to somewhere all alone while he's still here. His own hands slide back to his letter, pen tapping faintly over his knuckles once more. "Yeah," he says softly, answering the truth in her words rather than the lie. "That’s what we do. We keep going for the ones who can’t." There’s a faint flicker of a smile—small, warm, stubbornly hopeful. "But, that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone, okay?" He glances up to hold her gaze for a moment. He'd be there, if she asked, if she needed, but he means she has others too, like Koa, like Flora. Now more than ever it seems she and Flora need to be there for each other.
"Now," he sits up a bit straighter from his slouch, purposefully adding some extra brightness to his tone, like a lens flare trying to build happiness into a photograph. "Give me your honest opinion on this." He slides the draft of his letter towards her. It doesn't feel so selfish this time now, asking for her help. If anything maybe it's something like a life raft, because sometimes you only remember how strong you are when you're helping someone else back up.
So he lets her retreat, because sometimes that’s the only way people can keep standing. Still, his eyes stay on her, steady and unwilling to let her crawl back to somewhere all alone while he's still here. His own hands slide back to his letter, pen tapping faintly over his knuckles once more. "Yeah," he says softly, answering the truth in her words rather than the lie. "That’s what we do. We keep going for the ones who can’t." There’s a faint flicker of a smile—small, warm, stubbornly hopeful. "But, that doesn’t mean you have to do it alone, okay?" He glances up to hold her gaze for a moment. He'd be there, if she asked, if she needed, but he means she has others too, like Koa, like Flora. Now more than ever it seems she and Flora need to be there for each other.
"Now," he sits up a bit straighter from his slouch, purposefully adding some extra brightness to his tone, like a lens flare trying to build happiness into a photograph. "Give me your honest opinion on this." He slides the draft of his letter towards her. It doesn't feel so selfish this time now, asking for her help. If anything maybe it's something like a life raft, because sometimes you only remember how strong you are when you're helping someone else back up.
Pain is what you desire
So, you wanna be immortal?
So, you wanna be immortal?
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
