The skies are black with lead-filled rain
a morbid painting on display
a morbid painting on display
In a way, it's healing to see her answer hurt him. To know that, for all her anxieties and doubt, her decision to leave is enough to cause him pain. To know that despite his mistakes amounting to too much for her to take, he loved her. Perhaps always will, as she knows she will. His understanding in some ways makes it easier. There is no attempt to keep her, to sway her. This is the last gift he could give her, and her appreciation shines in her eyes past the glimmer of emotion. To be let go from gentle hands that do not grasp and beg, claw and claim, is the only thing she can ask in the wake of all this pain
"You've never set out with the intention to hurt me," she points out gently, the echo of the waves in the tunnels not enough to drown her voice even with how softly it leaves her lips. "That means something. And I can't regret us, even though you've hurt me." The last shackle falls free as Hotaru says it. You've hurt me. Finally owning her own pain in a way neither can avoid, and not letting it pass over her this time.
Despite herself, her head tilts toward his hand as it tucks hair away from her face. A weak, human part of her wanting one more touch, one more expression of love. His hands have brought her so much joy and safety, and for a moment she thinks maybe they can magically do it once more and fix all this with a gentle touch. But life is no fairytale, and his physicality cannot erase the new boundaries she has been forced to make. His assurances cause her to shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in his scent as the budding storm threatens to wash it away in a downpour of rain. "For all I know you are a good man, far better than your own mind tells you, you're right. I do deserve better." Her eyes open, certain and sad as they meet his. Whether she will find it is another question. Will his ghost haunt her as all the others have? Will she regret this, even knowing she deserves better? Settling is an ache of desire in her bones, but pain has never broken Hotaru's will before.
His apology is borne with a quiet sort of stalwart nature, and though he retreats she steps forward to gently hook the tips of his fingers with her own. "I know. I wish I were a better woman, to try and forgive you, to make this work. But I'm not. For that, I'm sorry too." Her own view of herself in contrast to how he thinks she is better than she is, just as he believes he is a worse man than she sees him. It is sad and ironic and painful in all the worst ways. "Even without my forgiveness, Sunjata, you will always have my love." Her throat burns, and before the tears can fall she leans up to kiss the corner of his mouth. A chaste mockery of that which she can't afford to give herself, not if she intends to walk away. She pulls away, and forces her hand to drop his. Her fingertips are cold without his to hold. "I will come if you need me. But that is all I can be for you now." Otherwise she knows she will be too tempted to come back, to forgive that which she knows she cannot afford to. Hotaru bites down on the words that try to follow, the hopeful 'maybe when all this is over'. She cannot make either of them wait, hoping, for that which may never come. This has to be the end.
"You've never set out with the intention to hurt me," she points out gently, the echo of the waves in the tunnels not enough to drown her voice even with how softly it leaves her lips. "That means something. And I can't regret us, even though you've hurt me." The last shackle falls free as Hotaru says it. You've hurt me. Finally owning her own pain in a way neither can avoid, and not letting it pass over her this time.
Despite herself, her head tilts toward his hand as it tucks hair away from her face. A weak, human part of her wanting one more touch, one more expression of love. His hands have brought her so much joy and safety, and for a moment she thinks maybe they can magically do it once more and fix all this with a gentle touch. But life is no fairytale, and his physicality cannot erase the new boundaries she has been forced to make. His assurances cause her to shut her eyes for a moment, breathing in his scent as the budding storm threatens to wash it away in a downpour of rain. "For all I know you are a good man, far better than your own mind tells you, you're right. I do deserve better." Her eyes open, certain and sad as they meet his. Whether she will find it is another question. Will his ghost haunt her as all the others have? Will she regret this, even knowing she deserves better? Settling is an ache of desire in her bones, but pain has never broken Hotaru's will before.
His apology is borne with a quiet sort of stalwart nature, and though he retreats she steps forward to gently hook the tips of his fingers with her own. "I know. I wish I were a better woman, to try and forgive you, to make this work. But I'm not. For that, I'm sorry too." Her own view of herself in contrast to how he thinks she is better than she is, just as he believes he is a worse man than she sees him. It is sad and ironic and painful in all the worst ways. "Even without my forgiveness, Sunjata, you will always have my love." Her throat burns, and before the tears can fall she leans up to kiss the corner of his mouth. A chaste mockery of that which she can't afford to give herself, not if she intends to walk away. She pulls away, and forces her hand to drop his. Her fingertips are cold without his to hold. "I will come if you need me. But that is all I can be for you now." Otherwise she knows she will be too tempted to come back, to forgive that which she knows she cannot afford to. Hotaru bites down on the words that try to follow, the hopeful 'maybe when all this is over'. She cannot make either of them wait, hoping, for that which may never come. This has to be the end.
This is the night that young love died
Buried at each others sides
Buried at each others sides
