It felt good - so good - to have his feelings validated. To hear that he really wasn't obliged to befriend any of these people. Just because they seemed to care about him he did not have to care back, or like them, or let them in. He knew it, and yet... every turn of the way he had been badgered to relent. Even Weaver had, though perhaps for selfish reasons as she was keeping company with Loren.
Maybe Korbin just was a stubborn goat, but he hated being coaxed into things. The more someone tried to make him do something, the more he struggled against it, until it reached these ridiculous levels. Yes, he was still a wreck and he had lost faith in much, but would it be half as bad if he had been left alone to figure things out? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he was just as broken and twised out of shape as he felt.
A lump was starting to form in his throat, and it grew bigger as Noah's voice choked up. The apologies made him feel guilty, enough that Korbin slowly, painstakingly pushed himself up to sit.
"You had your own problems," he mumbled, gaze averted. Not sure what to do with this vulnerable side of the man. Was he causing this? "I didn't want to add to them. I was fine, things were getting better. But then the cultists came, and Weaver..." He trailed off, shrugged helplessly. Korbin had been pushing people away long before his sister died, and maybe he had been avoiding Noah too. If he only had one person to care about there was only one vulnerable spot in his heart, and surely it had to be possible to protect at least one person, right? Right.
What a perfect lie he had told himself.
Sitting silently as Noah rose, Korbin remained quiet and submitted himself to some long, hard introspection. He definitely had issues, more than one, and to some degree perhaps it could be chalked up to interference by those others. But... no, he hadn't been helping himself. Or asked anyone else for aid. And even if there was a kernel of truth in everything he'd told Chulane and Kiada, it was really amped up to eleven, to hide how tired he was, how lost and helplessly lonely. It wasn't something he wanted them to see. And he didn't want them to fill the void either.
Sighing, Korbin pulled the knees up to his chest and leaned the head against them. When Noah returned and offered him the cup, it was accepted by hands that wouldn't stop trembling.
"It just feels like I can never catch a break, you know?" Korbin turned the mug between the palms, waiting for it to cool. "There has been something, non stop, ever since Weaver got that bright idea of opening the bar. I've never gotten the chance to get used to any of it before something else comes along. I've been told to give it time, but it's never quite enough."
Blowing on the tea, he sipped it. Grimaced at the taste of honey, too sweet even like this... but at least it was drinkable this time. "It's not like I hate her, you know. Delphine, or whatever her name was." It felt important that Noah knew this. "But she's trying to mother me, and you know I can't stand that. I never... meant to hurt her." Not really. Not very much.
Maybe Korbin just was a stubborn goat, but he hated being coaxed into things. The more someone tried to make him do something, the more he struggled against it, until it reached these ridiculous levels. Yes, he was still a wreck and he had lost faith in much, but would it be half as bad if he had been left alone to figure things out? Maybe. Maybe not. Maybe he was just as broken and twised out of shape as he felt.
A lump was starting to form in his throat, and it grew bigger as Noah's voice choked up. The apologies made him feel guilty, enough that Korbin slowly, painstakingly pushed himself up to sit.
"You had your own problems," he mumbled, gaze averted. Not sure what to do with this vulnerable side of the man. Was he causing this? "I didn't want to add to them. I was fine, things were getting better. But then the cultists came, and Weaver..." He trailed off, shrugged helplessly. Korbin had been pushing people away long before his sister died, and maybe he had been avoiding Noah too. If he only had one person to care about there was only one vulnerable spot in his heart, and surely it had to be possible to protect at least one person, right? Right.
What a perfect lie he had told himself.
Sitting silently as Noah rose, Korbin remained quiet and submitted himself to some long, hard introspection. He definitely had issues, more than one, and to some degree perhaps it could be chalked up to interference by those others. But... no, he hadn't been helping himself. Or asked anyone else for aid. And even if there was a kernel of truth in everything he'd told Chulane and Kiada, it was really amped up to eleven, to hide how tired he was, how lost and helplessly lonely. It wasn't something he wanted them to see. And he didn't want them to fill the void either.
Sighing, Korbin pulled the knees up to his chest and leaned the head against them. When Noah returned and offered him the cup, it was accepted by hands that wouldn't stop trembling.
"It just feels like I can never catch a break, you know?" Korbin turned the mug between the palms, waiting for it to cool. "There has been something, non stop, ever since Weaver got that bright idea of opening the bar. I've never gotten the chance to get used to any of it before something else comes along. I've been told to give it time, but it's never quite enough."
Blowing on the tea, he sipped it. Grimaced at the taste of honey, too sweet even like this... but at least it was drinkable this time. "It's not like I hate her, you know. Delphine, or whatever her name was." It felt important that Noah knew this. "But she's trying to mother me, and you know I can't stand that. I never... meant to hurt her." Not really. Not very much.
In loving memory of when I gave a shit
KORBIN
HALE
HALE
