Honey, these arms that once held you are ready to fight
"You may not have married me, but your burdens are still mine," she retorts, though her voice has fallen to a tired, stonelike thing. They're just going to keep bashing their heads against the other's brick walls. She doesn't see a good way over, through, or around the problem. If Halo is where he wants her, she can agree...on the surface. If it will earn her his ire either way, then she will simply have to hide her involvement. Surely Deimos will heed the blood call, and will have her back if nothing else. Nate will surely have better luck arguing against Sunjata, and though she misses him desperately, part of her still dies knowing that she isn't capable of fulfilling the role the doctor does.
It culminates into a tempest of unexpected emotion, and she hesitates to move any closer to Sunjata as he offers himself. They are both tearing at the seams now, and Hotaru may have created a new life through needle and thread, but her hands are not so skilled as the fix them both right now. She moves closer, into his space if not actively touching, and forces herself not to cry. Not to steal the spotlight so to speak. This is something to be grateful for, to celebrate; she won't crumble now, not when she has already failed him so much since this conversation started. "Then I'll go find her," she agrees, hoarse and unsteady as she slowly peels her hands away from her eyes, the throb of a headache already starting. Eyes red-rimmed and glassy but free of tears, defeated as she looks up at Sunjata. "If that's really where you want me, I'll go." Even if it cleaves her heart in two. Even if it festers like an infected wound, eating away at her insecurities. Even if it forces her hand to hide away her involvement, to betray him and lie to him, to break the foundations of trust they've painstakingly built. Hotaru was never sold on the illusion of 'forever' anyway. So if he wants her gone, wants to face this alone, then so be it.
It culminates into a tempest of unexpected emotion, and she hesitates to move any closer to Sunjata as he offers himself. They are both tearing at the seams now, and Hotaru may have created a new life through needle and thread, but her hands are not so skilled as the fix them both right now. She moves closer, into his space if not actively touching, and forces herself not to cry. Not to steal the spotlight so to speak. This is something to be grateful for, to celebrate; she won't crumble now, not when she has already failed him so much since this conversation started. "Then I'll go find her," she agrees, hoarse and unsteady as she slowly peels her hands away from her eyes, the throb of a headache already starting. Eyes red-rimmed and glassy but free of tears, defeated as she looks up at Sunjata. "If that's really where you want me, I'll go." Even if it cleaves her heart in two. Even if it festers like an infected wound, eating away at her insecurities. Even if it forces her hand to hide away her involvement, to betray him and lie to him, to break the foundations of trust they've painstakingly built. Hotaru was never sold on the illusion of 'forever' anyway. So if he wants her gone, wants to face this alone, then so be it.
HOTARU
