CHULANE
blending into the darkness, & it gets harder to see
His heart wanted to sing, to celebrate in a chorus of happy flutterings in his chest, but he couldn't let go of the undertones, couldn't shake the memory of her falling, even if the images weren't replaying before him in this moment. But, it is easy for him to want to lean in, to want to focus only her on, to want to hope that this is real, that everything is alright (even if he knows it isn't).
Her hands around his neck, her words - his eyes grow wet, glistening from the tears as he nods, then tilts his forehead forward to rest upon one of her shoulders for a moment, a silent sob shaking him. It was a vulnerable moment, the only he ever allowed himself - in her presence, in the privacy of their home, together. He just let himself be, let himself hear her words (even if he wanted to deny them, he knew he shouldn't any more, couldn't anymore, and it hurt).
"I don't want to say goodbye," he admitted softly, admitting the weakness, the denial he'd been suffering - then he sat up again, taking a steadying breath with blurry vision he blinked away. He didn't have to say goodbye yet, he realised, as she offered him time - more time to be with her, to be here, to have one last morning together (even if it wasn't real - wasn't there a saying about things going on in one's head not being any less real than real?)
"Okay," he permitted, he agreed, letting a smile soften his expression, letting himself shake loose of the logic, of the scientist within him that struggled with accepting the strange and unusual workings of Caido. "You made coffee?" he asked, without even looking at the mugs, instead leaning in to press his lips into the crook of her neck, pulling her closer to him, immersing himself in this final blessing before the true finality would settle.
Her hands around his neck, her words - his eyes grow wet, glistening from the tears as he nods, then tilts his forehead forward to rest upon one of her shoulders for a moment, a silent sob shaking him. It was a vulnerable moment, the only he ever allowed himself - in her presence, in the privacy of their home, together. He just let himself be, let himself hear her words (even if he wanted to deny them, he knew he shouldn't any more, couldn't anymore, and it hurt).
"I don't want to say goodbye," he admitted softly, admitting the weakness, the denial he'd been suffering - then he sat up again, taking a steadying breath with blurry vision he blinked away. He didn't have to say goodbye yet, he realised, as she offered him time - more time to be with her, to be here, to have one last morning together (even if it wasn't real - wasn't there a saying about things going on in one's head not being any less real than real?)
"Okay," he permitted, he agreed, letting a smile soften his expression, letting himself shake loose of the logic, of the scientist within him that struggled with accepting the strange and unusual workings of Caido. "You made coffee?" he asked, without even looking at the mugs, instead leaning in to press his lips into the crook of her neck, pulling her closer to him, immersing himself in this final blessing before the true finality would settle.
try to stand & unravel what a man's gotta be
