KORBIN
But what does it take to break you, to awake you?
To make you bow and spit it out?
To make you bow and spit it out?
Did he look like he was in any condition to fly at her throat right now? Pulling the rag from his eyes when he heard the cup being put down on the floor, Korbin shot her a look that suggested he was very aware of what she was doing. It would have been amusing if she didn't have fair reason to be wary; instead it only made the young man hate himself even more. So much for never resorting to violence. So much for hating to fight, to hunt, to kill. He had done all of that, and hurt people in more ways than physically. What was she doing, trying to fix this kind of mess? Already she had been hurt, and Korbin couldn't swear it would never happen again.
"It's from the infirmary," he told her, closing the eyes as he waited for the herbs to steep. "We dug it out after the attack... some of it. Most is gone. Too much." The books, the tools, seeds and plants and dried stock, all the things he had begun to learn how to use. Gone. Scattered amidst the rubble, buried in snow that would never melt. Lost. Like so many other things.
For a long time, there was silence. Korbin got lost in thought, drifting back and forth between fragile, volatile emotions in a nightmarish roller coaster. "I'm not good at it," he said eventually. "Accepting help. Or asking for it. Admitting when I need it. Lately, everything is just... a mess. I'm... sorry. For hurting you, back then."
Admittedly, she really should learn to take 'no' for an answer, but that did not give him leave to use violence against anyone. He could have flied off earlier. Should have, rather than allowed things to escalate like that.
"It's from the infirmary," he told her, closing the eyes as he waited for the herbs to steep. "We dug it out after the attack... some of it. Most is gone. Too much." The books, the tools, seeds and plants and dried stock, all the things he had begun to learn how to use. Gone. Scattered amidst the rubble, buried in snow that would never melt. Lost. Like so many other things.
For a long time, there was silence. Korbin got lost in thought, drifting back and forth between fragile, volatile emotions in a nightmarish roller coaster. "I'm not good at it," he said eventually. "Accepting help. Or asking for it. Admitting when I need it. Lately, everything is just... a mess. I'm... sorry. For hurting you, back then."
Admittedly, she really should learn to take 'no' for an answer, but that did not give him leave to use violence against anyone. He could have flied off earlier. Should have, rather than allowed things to escalate like that.
Doesn't matter if I hate you or embrace you
Nothing makes you turn around
Nothing makes you turn around
