KORBIN
And round about his home the glory
That blushed and bloomed,
That blushed and bloomed,
He flinched when she put her hand on him. Flinched, almost withdrew... but reined himself in, and just sat there. Korbin didn't look up. Couldn't bring himself to look at her. His hands wouldn't stop trembling, even as he closed them tight and pressed them to his forehead.
With his eyes tightly closed, he didn't see the note. Didn't see her question, though he felt the concern and knew he didn't deserve it. Gods, he'd laid hands on his own sister! The only person he would never harm, would rather die than injure... or so he'd thought. What was wrong with him? What was he becoming?
Nausea roiled through his guts, but just like that day on the Tundra, he managed to hold it down. His breathing remained quick and strained though, and he felt clammy with cold sweat. Knew it was caused by more than just excertion and pain, though that definitely didn't help any. He was still bleeding, but didn't move to check the wounds. Couldn't bring himself to do anything at all, lest the fragile control he had on himself shattered.
And who knew what he might do if he broke down again? This was the second time someone got hurt when he lost control.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, rocking slowly back and forth where he sat. "I'm.. I'm sorry..."
With his eyes tightly closed, he didn't see the note. Didn't see her question, though he felt the concern and knew he didn't deserve it. Gods, he'd laid hands on his own sister! The only person he would never harm, would rather die than injure... or so he'd thought. What was wrong with him? What was he becoming?
Nausea roiled through his guts, but just like that day on the Tundra, he managed to hold it down. His breathing remained quick and strained though, and he felt clammy with cold sweat. Knew it was caused by more than just excertion and pain, though that definitely didn't help any. He was still bleeding, but didn't move to check the wounds. Couldn't bring himself to do anything at all, lest the fragile control he had on himself shattered.
And who knew what he might do if he broke down again? This was the second time someone got hurt when he lost control.
"I'm sorry," he whispered, rocking slowly back and forth where he sat. "I'm.. I'm sorry..."
Is but a dim-remembered story
Of the old time entombed.
Of the old time entombed.
