if you try and chase the sun you're never gonna catch it
Vesper doesn’t look at Jack while he talks; not out of disrespect, not out of distance, but because the space between them is already stretched thin enough that meeting Jack’s eyes feels like it might snap something neither of them is ready to hold. For others, this would be nothing. For the two of them—two telepaths who have spent their whole lives bending themselves so no one sees where they break—it’s the emotional equivalent of dropping to their knees in the street and sobbing into each other’s shirts.
He frowns down at his hands instead, at the silver rings glinting faintly in the lanternlight. The constellation freckles on his skin pulse in a slow, thoughtful rhythm as he tilts his head, trying to decode the old scar tissue in Jack’s voice, the quiet admission tucked into the words. "Bein’ dropped down into paradise with two sisters is a cakewalk compared to how you had it," he agrees, voice low, smooth, threaded with a reluctant gratitude he’s never said aloud. "Never mind bein’ a demigod on top of it."
He pauses, eyes narrowing at the plank floor like it might offer some kind of instruction, but it doesn't. He swallows, throat tight, and shakes his head slightly. "But when it comes to bein' with someone..." His breath hitches on the way out, chest rising in a slow, uneasy drag. "I just can’t see how it’s meant to go unless I tell the whole fuckin' world what I can do."
The truth spirals out of him in one long, unbroken flow, the same way thoughts spill across a mind he never asked to read. "Holdin’ it back all the time, it’s like livin’ in a lie that gets heavier the longer it goes on. Not just 'cause of keepin' straight what I should know from what I do know, but all the shit that ends up pilin' up." His fingers tap lightly against the bunk beside him, restless, a quiet echo of the static that always hums in the back of his mind. “"It’s the baggage people don’t say out loud. The secrets they don’t mean to give you. The emotions they don’t even know they’re thinkin’ at you. The fuckin' insults." Worse, most of the worst things people thought were dressed up all with pretty lies, which only made them all the uglier to hear.
He huffs a breath that might’ve been a laugh if it wasn’t so scraped thin, knowing Jack would understand. The next exhale is softer, sadder, threaded with resignation rather than anger. "Unless I go around tellin’ everyone what I am—which I ain’t about t’ do—I don’t see how it ends any different than it did with Colt."
He frowns down at his hands instead, at the silver rings glinting faintly in the lanternlight. The constellation freckles on his skin pulse in a slow, thoughtful rhythm as he tilts his head, trying to decode the old scar tissue in Jack’s voice, the quiet admission tucked into the words. "Bein’ dropped down into paradise with two sisters is a cakewalk compared to how you had it," he agrees, voice low, smooth, threaded with a reluctant gratitude he’s never said aloud. "Never mind bein’ a demigod on top of it."
He pauses, eyes narrowing at the plank floor like it might offer some kind of instruction, but it doesn't. He swallows, throat tight, and shakes his head slightly. "But when it comes to bein' with someone..." His breath hitches on the way out, chest rising in a slow, uneasy drag. "I just can’t see how it’s meant to go unless I tell the whole fuckin' world what I can do."
The truth spirals out of him in one long, unbroken flow, the same way thoughts spill across a mind he never asked to read. "Holdin’ it back all the time, it’s like livin’ in a lie that gets heavier the longer it goes on. Not just 'cause of keepin' straight what I should know from what I do know, but all the shit that ends up pilin' up." His fingers tap lightly against the bunk beside him, restless, a quiet echo of the static that always hums in the back of his mind. “"It’s the baggage people don’t say out loud. The secrets they don’t mean to give you. The emotions they don’t even know they’re thinkin’ at you. The fuckin' insults." Worse, most of the worst things people thought were dressed up all with pretty lies, which only made them all the uglier to hear.
He huffs a breath that might’ve been a laugh if it wasn’t so scraped thin, knowing Jack would understand. The next exhale is softer, sadder, threaded with resignation rather than anger. "Unless I go around tellin’ everyone what I am—which I ain’t about t’ do—I don’t see how it ends any different than it did with Colt."
And now it's turning out to be the worst of my bad habits
☆ has a pale star tattoo beneath his left eye, and freckle-sized constellations move across his skin
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
☽ hair changes from bleached blonde to brown
☆ telepathic: Sunlit Shadows | The user can read the surface thoughts and emotions of those within a 60ft radius. Control is excellent. Note: "Thoughts and emotions" include anything written in a character's narration in a post.
