I need your hand but I don't want to burn it
As Colt turns the truth over, piece by piece, Vesper feels himself sinking beneath it. The silence between them has become something like cold quicksand, dragging him down no matter how still he holds himself, and every new understanding that blooms inside her takes him a little deeper. His fingertips begin to numb around the ruined peppermint sprig, the chill creeping through his arms and into his chest until even breathing feels distant, as though he’s drifted loose into the vast dark between stars. He can still see the sun of her burning where it always has, bright enough to colour everything around it, but he knows now that its warmth will never reach him in quite the same way again.
He’d imagined the aftermath of telling her nearly as often as he’d rehearsed the confession itself. Anger had been easy to picture, along with disgust, accusation, or the flat finality of her walking away. He’d never imagined this slow drowning, nor the way her memories would rearrange themselves around what he was until every touch and kindness became another place she’d never been alone.
The thoughts of her ex-husband tighten something in his face before he can prevent it and Vesper’s gaze falls to the grass while the shape of those years moves through her; all the room she’d surrendered in the hope that someone might finally stop taking, and the nausea rises hard at the knowledge that his name now sits anywhere near that man’s. It doesn’t matter that he’d never asked her to become smaller for him. He’d entered places she hadn’t offered and listened because he could, and whatever his reasons, he knows well enough what sort of company that puts him in.
When her apology tries to form, Vesper shakes his head immediately. His chin lifts as he glances toward her, blue eyes soft but fixed firmly on her face. "I know." There’s no room for her to carry that as well. He won’t let her make an injury out of thoughts she’d never intended anyone else to hear, even if knowing she hadn’t meant them has never been enough to dull their edges.
Her attention settles on the peppermint sprig, and the strange little flare of sympathy she feels for it has Vesper looking down at what remains between his fingers. Without entirely knowing why, he holds it out to her, the stripped stem resting across his palm like an offering too small to mean anything and too gentle for the conversation they’re having.
His shoulders hunch when he considers how to answer her. The breath he draws catches faintly on the way in, and for a moment he watches the sprig instead of trusting himself to look at her. "You’d be surprised," he says softly. "Every mind is noisy, but...I liked how yours sounded. Right from the very start." He leaves it there without trying to qualify it with most of the time; everything between them is already split open, and he won’t hide inside technicalities now.
Vesper raises one brow as he glances over his shoulder, meaning only to check her reaction, but his gaze catches instead on the moonlight edging her features. It traces silver along the gold of her hair and gathers against the pout of her cupid’s bow, and for a few seconds he lets himself remember how easily looking at her had once become its own kind of gravity. His inhale turns stiff before he forces his eyes away. "I never really tried to stay with anyone before you." The confession leaves him with less certainty than the one about his magic, and his mouth presses briefly into a line. "I didn’t..." He swallows thickly. An unfamiliar sting gathers behind his eyes, sharp enough to make him blink toward the darkness before he can continue. "I didn’t know how bad it would get."
Slowly, Vesper looks back at her. His gaze climbs with unusual care, as though anything too sudden might frighten her away, and when his eyes finally reach hers, his voice falls quieter still. "Or how good.
I really liked you, Colt." The final consonant in liked barely exists, worn away by everything still true beneath the past tense. He tries to steady himself before the next words, but the tremor reaches his voice anyway, subtle and impossible to call back once it’s there. "And I’m sorry."
He’d imagined the aftermath of telling her nearly as often as he’d rehearsed the confession itself. Anger had been easy to picture, along with disgust, accusation, or the flat finality of her walking away. He’d never imagined this slow drowning, nor the way her memories would rearrange themselves around what he was until every touch and kindness became another place she’d never been alone.
The thoughts of her ex-husband tighten something in his face before he can prevent it and Vesper’s gaze falls to the grass while the shape of those years moves through her; all the room she’d surrendered in the hope that someone might finally stop taking, and the nausea rises hard at the knowledge that his name now sits anywhere near that man’s. It doesn’t matter that he’d never asked her to become smaller for him. He’d entered places she hadn’t offered and listened because he could, and whatever his reasons, he knows well enough what sort of company that puts him in.
When her apology tries to form, Vesper shakes his head immediately. His chin lifts as he glances toward her, blue eyes soft but fixed firmly on her face. "I know." There’s no room for her to carry that as well. He won’t let her make an injury out of thoughts she’d never intended anyone else to hear, even if knowing she hadn’t meant them has never been enough to dull their edges.
Her attention settles on the peppermint sprig, and the strange little flare of sympathy she feels for it has Vesper looking down at what remains between his fingers. Without entirely knowing why, he holds it out to her, the stripped stem resting across his palm like an offering too small to mean anything and too gentle for the conversation they’re having.
His shoulders hunch when he considers how to answer her. The breath he draws catches faintly on the way in, and for a moment he watches the sprig instead of trusting himself to look at her. "You’d be surprised," he says softly. "Every mind is noisy, but...I liked how yours sounded. Right from the very start." He leaves it there without trying to qualify it with most of the time; everything between them is already split open, and he won’t hide inside technicalities now.
Vesper raises one brow as he glances over his shoulder, meaning only to check her reaction, but his gaze catches instead on the moonlight edging her features. It traces silver along the gold of her hair and gathers against the pout of her cupid’s bow, and for a few seconds he lets himself remember how easily looking at her had once become its own kind of gravity. His inhale turns stiff before he forces his eyes away. "I never really tried to stay with anyone before you." The confession leaves him with less certainty than the one about his magic, and his mouth presses briefly into a line. "I didn’t..." He swallows thickly. An unfamiliar sting gathers behind his eyes, sharp enough to make him blink toward the darkness before he can continue. "I didn’t know how bad it would get."
Slowly, Vesper looks back at her. His gaze climbs with unusual care, as though anything too sudden might frighten her away, and when his eyes finally reach hers, his voice falls quieter still. "Or how good.
I really liked you, Colt." The final consonant in liked barely exists, worn away by everything still true beneath the past tense. He tries to steady himself before the next words, but the tremor reaches his voice anyway, subtle and impossible to call back once it’s there. "And I’m sorry."
No I don't deserve it, I don't deserve it
☆ 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.
