Zavien
There's nothing either of them can say or do to change the past, no words or actions that will make Lena's loss feel any lighter, but the tightening of his hold keeps Zavien from tumbling into despair, squeezing the emotions into something less daunting and overwhelming. The apology is one he's heard a thousand times before and one he knows won't stop for months to come, sincerity ranging from polite to genuine sorrows. Koa hadn't needed to say them, not when Zavien knows this must be hitting him just as hard. And yet, it feels like the hug extends deeper with the words, giving his lonely heart company in its misery.
He doesn't fight Koa when he pulls away, although his limbs extend reluctantly before falling stiff to his sides. Each step is a struggle, his watery eyes trying not to catch on the space around him, trying not to see all the ghosts of Lena. They stay glued to the floor, squinting as the lights turn on, illuminating every piece of furniture she'd weaved through as she worked, every plant she'd loved and cared for, every bit of her still lingering in the space.
It beats at his chest, a barrage of moments that make breathing hard as he moves pointedly away from the couch and towards a wooden dining chair. It's safe, something they hadn't used as much, hadn't laughed or kissed on, hadn't soaked in as many dangerous memories to hurt him with. It's strong enough to hold the heavy thud of his weight, his spine curving into a shell that's held up by propped elbows and willpower.
Only then does Sol move from the comforting embrace of his friend. Small whines and grumbles vibrate through him in mournful hiccups as he nuzzles his thanks to Pip, scurrying towards his companion to settle against his leg. Golden eyes peek up, the bond dense with sympathy, grief, and concern that settles in next to Koa's hand, encouraging him to reach for the glass that's appeared in his dazed state.
His hand hesitates, remembering when Lena had bought it, and wishing he didn't. The movement stutters before taking hold, lifting it but not yet taking a drink, his head shaking instead. "I can't be here." Broken and raspy, they're barely more than a whisper, a subconscious answer to the question Koa hadn't asked yet. Pressure builds behind his eyes again, but he's been left dry, only a pursing of his face to show the agony he's in just being here. Zavien braces a hand against his head to still the thoughts, taking a shaking breath as he says, "She's everywhere."
He doesn't fight Koa when he pulls away, although his limbs extend reluctantly before falling stiff to his sides. Each step is a struggle, his watery eyes trying not to catch on the space around him, trying not to see all the ghosts of Lena. They stay glued to the floor, squinting as the lights turn on, illuminating every piece of furniture she'd weaved through as she worked, every plant she'd loved and cared for, every bit of her still lingering in the space.
It beats at his chest, a barrage of moments that make breathing hard as he moves pointedly away from the couch and towards a wooden dining chair. It's safe, something they hadn't used as much, hadn't laughed or kissed on, hadn't soaked in as many dangerous memories to hurt him with. It's strong enough to hold the heavy thud of his weight, his spine curving into a shell that's held up by propped elbows and willpower.
Only then does Sol move from the comforting embrace of his friend. Small whines and grumbles vibrate through him in mournful hiccups as he nuzzles his thanks to Pip, scurrying towards his companion to settle against his leg. Golden eyes peek up, the bond dense with sympathy, grief, and concern that settles in next to Koa's hand, encouraging him to reach for the glass that's appeared in his dazed state.
His hand hesitates, remembering when Lena had bought it, and wishing he didn't. The movement stutters before taking hold, lifting it but not yet taking a drink, his head shaking instead. "I can't be here." Broken and raspy, they're barely more than a whisper, a subconscious answer to the question Koa hadn't asked yet. Pressure builds behind his eyes again, but he's been left dry, only a pursing of his face to show the agony he's in just being here. Zavien braces a hand against his head to still the thoughts, taking a shaking breath as he says, "She's everywhere."
I'd rather have a broken arm than a broken heart.
