Honey wherever you go, I know
He doesn't have the strength to pretend he isn't still breaking under every glance, every curl of their fingers, every word that lands like it could be the last. He doesn't have a light left to turn on and shine for her now. He would though, if he could. Keep her from folding in further, keep her aloft even if he's going under. "You didn't meant to," is the one thing he can assure her with. Sometimes, intent is what matters the most, even if it still stings. Then, unspoken except for the gaze he pours into her, you don't have to.
This would scar, but it could still heal, if she let it.
"I don't want better," he whispers it like a secret, even though he's told her already, but maybe the quiet will make her listen all the harder. "I don't believe there is better. You're the top, Ro." His best moments have been with her, and while this isn't one of them, it had been no so very long ago, and she's given him far more of those.
He's surprised when she doesn't depart but instead tucks in closer. All the things he can't give her right now, but this he can, he can hold her. He'll press her to his side like the pressure could keep it all from draining out, even if she's the one that put the hole there. The arm she doesn't have a hold on fits overtop her, fingers splaying against her back with slow, drifting passes of his fingertips as she cries.
His jaw works back his own grief, but its strain is apparent in the way his voice cracks past his teeth. "But you won't." He exhales, something shaky that threatens to buckle under the weight of breath. "Every time you're with him, you won't be." Although he'd never have expected her to be available at his side every time, being with Jack is something else entirely.
He'd tried being her friend once after wanting more, it didn't work out well for either of them. "I can't—I can't just be next to you if you go to him, Ro." There's a wild sort of panic that sits heavy on his chest, forcing him to gasp a bit harder for every inhale. It feels like he's choking himself, like each word is another finger of his curling against his throat. He doesn't want them to be real, the words he's saying, doesn't want to mean them, but he can't just pretend he can recover from this and love her quietly and secretly again. "I won't leave, but...it won't be the same." It'll be empty.
He'll show up for her, if she needs him, as a soldier, as someone who can, but little more. He can't find it in him to even imagine laughing with her again if it means waving goodbye while she skips away to the Ark. It's not even that it's Jack, it's that it's not him. He gave everything, and if she won't take it, he's got nothing left afterwards.
This would scar, but it could still heal, if she let it.
"I don't want better," he whispers it like a secret, even though he's told her already, but maybe the quiet will make her listen all the harder. "I don't believe there is better. You're the top, Ro." His best moments have been with her, and while this isn't one of them, it had been no so very long ago, and she's given him far more of those.
He's surprised when she doesn't depart but instead tucks in closer. All the things he can't give her right now, but this he can, he can hold her. He'll press her to his side like the pressure could keep it all from draining out, even if she's the one that put the hole there. The arm she doesn't have a hold on fits overtop her, fingers splaying against her back with slow, drifting passes of his fingertips as she cries.
His jaw works back his own grief, but its strain is apparent in the way his voice cracks past his teeth. "But you won't." He exhales, something shaky that threatens to buckle under the weight of breath. "Every time you're with him, you won't be." Although he'd never have expected her to be available at his side every time, being with Jack is something else entirely.
He'd tried being her friend once after wanting more, it didn't work out well for either of them. "I can't—I can't just be next to you if you go to him, Ro." There's a wild sort of panic that sits heavy on his chest, forcing him to gasp a bit harder for every inhale. It feels like he's choking himself, like each word is another finger of his curling against his throat. He doesn't want them to be real, the words he's saying, doesn't want to mean them, but he can't just pretend he can recover from this and love her quietly and secretly again. "I won't leave, but...it won't be the same." It'll be empty.
He'll show up for her, if she needs him, as a soldier, as someone who can, but little more. He can't find it in him to even imagine laughing with her again if it means waving goodbye while she skips away to the Ark. It's not even that it's Jack, it's that it's not him. He gave everything, and if she won't take it, he's got nothing left afterwards.
Kaisel
I'd give up half of forever, just to be with you
Wearing a watery blue, faded and stretched-out sparkling hair tie on his left wrist
