Zavien
Tears have never been something Zavien shied away from. Emotions and expression in general are a good thing, after all, but he always does his best to keep strong, to share the smiles more than the burdens. But there's something about a hug, something about a friend refusing to accept whatever external facade you put on and reaching instead to cushion the hurt underneath without a care for if it stains their clothes. The force of it breaks him as much as it keeps him from falling apart. He shatters and reforms like an atomic blast that explodes, the vacuum sucking the debris back in for a second, stronger wave of destruction that tears through walls and peace.
His shoulders shudder with the force of his pain, tears soaking Koa's shirt as he returns the hug in force, trying to keep himself from pulling them both to the floor. There aren't any words he can say, nothing that will encompass the loss he feels, the regrets and crumbling dreams and encroaching darkness of having someone so warm and loving stolen from the world. It's not fair that every turn of their relationship had been plagued by destruction and cruelties. It's not fair that she'd been ripped from the world after they'd survived so much worse. It's not fair that he'd had infinitely more love to give and nowhere for it to go. It's not fair and it never will be, because she's gone while he's still here.
For a time, he just cries, he lets out the injustice of it all and clutches to his friend as one of the only comforts in this heartless world. And only when the waterfall of emotions becomes a trickle does he loosen his hold, the exhaustion pulling at his limbs. His voice is a croak, simultaneously wet and dry to crack through the dark. "I was too late. Ronin couldn't save her..." Fresh tears fall, slow and mournful, thick with the anguish of his powerlessness, his failure to protect her when that's all he ever wanted.
His shoulders shudder with the force of his pain, tears soaking Koa's shirt as he returns the hug in force, trying to keep himself from pulling them both to the floor. There aren't any words he can say, nothing that will encompass the loss he feels, the regrets and crumbling dreams and encroaching darkness of having someone so warm and loving stolen from the world. It's not fair that every turn of their relationship had been plagued by destruction and cruelties. It's not fair that she'd been ripped from the world after they'd survived so much worse. It's not fair that he'd had infinitely more love to give and nowhere for it to go. It's not fair and it never will be, because she's gone while he's still here.
For a time, he just cries, he lets out the injustice of it all and clutches to his friend as one of the only comforts in this heartless world. And only when the waterfall of emotions becomes a trickle does he loosen his hold, the exhaustion pulling at his limbs. His voice is a croak, simultaneously wet and dry to crack through the dark. "I was too late. Ronin couldn't save her..." Fresh tears fall, slow and mournful, thick with the anguish of his powerlessness, his failure to protect her when that's all he ever wanted.
I'd rather have a broken arm than a broken heart.
