and I loved you so much it was making me sick
”I bet she felt it,” Vai says in a half whisper, well able to remember the pit of despair that had gnawed at her in the months and years after first losing Ashetta. To her credit, she doesn’t flinch as his voice grows louder; the witch has run with hunters and deviants, and anger is par for the course in those circles. Still, as he turns those grief-wild eyes on her, Vai is subdued momentarily.
The story that spills out speaks of the worst sort of pain, her breath catching as she listens. And when he turns away her hand reaches out to clasp over his around the bottle, the witch - usually eloquent and determined to get those last words in - utterly speechless. She tries to form something to say, but anything she tries withers on her tongue.
”Why would...” she manages eventually, wanting to reach out but not knowing how, or whether it would be appreciated. ”I can’t imagine. I... Zeph. Fuck.”
The story that spills out speaks of the worst sort of pain, her breath catching as she listens. And when he turns away her hand reaches out to clasp over his around the bottle, the witch - usually eloquent and determined to get those last words in - utterly speechless. She tries to form something to say, but anything she tries withers on her tongue.
”Why would...” she manages eventually, wanting to reach out but not knowing how, or whether it would be appreciated. ”I can’t imagine. I... Zeph. Fuck.”
