i'm really not so with you anymore
Rigby might be his own worst enemy, but he's also his only friend. The only person who might've loved him died long ago, and he'd never met her. The only other person who was supposed to care blamed him and left him on his own. When there was nobody there, he was at least free of the guilt and sorrow. People only came and hurt him, or left. So he did it for them, he ran from them, he hurt them, until they knew not to try. It may be self destructive, but it was what he knew, and it usually worked to hide his fears.
But now all he felt was fear, a different kind of instinct kicked in, the one that needed someone else. Even if he was stupid and bold, he was as resilient, and would do anything to stay alive. Even cry, even beg, if that was what suited her. It did work, Aurelia stopped and turned, marching up to him with a vicious aura that made him wince. The pain didn't help, his hands shook uncontrollably, but underneath his frightened tears there was an anger, hot and churning and solidifying distrust and malice.
The knife bitch bent down before him and with a brief and not at all gentle order she snapped the shaft of the arrow away. He did a shitty fucking job of staying still, the movement against the wound ripping and re-surging that burning feeling through his body. Instinctively his hand shot out to push her away, but she'd already finished her task and stepped away. He returned to the bloody wound, touching gently around and seething at the contact.
Let's go, Rigby glanced up, sniffed and wiped away the salty tears that'd rolled down his cheek. He sucked it up and braced himself into her support, rising to his feet and immediately moving his weight to the other leg. He may know the path well, but she'd have to navigate, all his attention was on the stone that pressed against his muscles and stung with every step.
But now all he felt was fear, a different kind of instinct kicked in, the one that needed someone else. Even if he was stupid and bold, he was as resilient, and would do anything to stay alive. Even cry, even beg, if that was what suited her. It did work, Aurelia stopped and turned, marching up to him with a vicious aura that made him wince. The pain didn't help, his hands shook uncontrollably, but underneath his frightened tears there was an anger, hot and churning and solidifying distrust and malice.
The knife bitch bent down before him and with a brief and not at all gentle order she snapped the shaft of the arrow away. He did a shitty fucking job of staying still, the movement against the wound ripping and re-surging that burning feeling through his body. Instinctively his hand shot out to push her away, but she'd already finished her task and stepped away. He returned to the bloody wound, touching gently around and seething at the contact.
Let's go, Rigby glanced up, sniffed and wiped away the salty tears that'd rolled down his cheek. He sucked it up and braced himself into her support, rising to his feet and immediately moving his weight to the other leg. He may know the path well, but she'd have to navigate, all his attention was on the stone that pressed against his muscles and stung with every step.
i'm just a ghost
RIGBY
