you have survived every moment of your life
even the ones you swore you wouldn't
Her appreciation for the news warms his heart. She has heard tale after tale of those early days, rose-tinted and cherished, and it only proves how she listens. Cares. He loves her, and it's terrifying. It steals the words from his throat, crippling the atmosphere, and that only adds to the burden of guilt he feels. Kova had known him so early, been at his side during the worst, darkest, bloodiest parts of his history - or at least the parts where he'd been free, and his own man. Culpable. But Phoebe? She knew only the gentle, goofy man he'd always been.
As she squeezes his hand, she will find his own listless, limp. "It's not you I'm worried about, not really," he murmurs, cringing internally at the cliche. Harper's other hand joins the first upon the table, both turning palm up as if he could see the blood on them despite their current cleanliness. "It doesn't change who I am, now. I can't call myself a different person, who I am when I'm...like that. But it's something I've never let you see, because it's not something you should have to witness, not as you are; kind, empathetic, someone who heals instead of harms." Things that were integral to who Phoebe was as a person. Reasons Harper had intentionally hidden this part of his history from her, because it was so at odds with her own soul. "The man I am, what I'm capable of at those times?" Tortured blue eyes drag their way back up to hers. "I don't deserve to be loved, like that."
Sighing, the hand she isn't holding rises to rake through his curls. "But if it's something I have to do, to help keep the casualties of this war to a minimum? To protect you? Then I have to risk scaring you away." Taking a moment to sip listlessly at his drink, Harper swallows hard before setting the glass back down, empty. "And if it does scare you, I don't want you staying because you gave your word. I wanted to warn you, or talk about it, beforehand." He won't push her away, won't sever these ties between them, because he loves her. Respects her autonomy. But it isn't easy either, to consider talking about these gaps in his history that he has shielded her from.
As she squeezes his hand, she will find his own listless, limp. "It's not you I'm worried about, not really," he murmurs, cringing internally at the cliche. Harper's other hand joins the first upon the table, both turning palm up as if he could see the blood on them despite their current cleanliness. "It doesn't change who I am, now. I can't call myself a different person, who I am when I'm...like that. But it's something I've never let you see, because it's not something you should have to witness, not as you are; kind, empathetic, someone who heals instead of harms." Things that were integral to who Phoebe was as a person. Reasons Harper had intentionally hidden this part of his history from her, because it was so at odds with her own soul. "The man I am, what I'm capable of at those times?" Tortured blue eyes drag their way back up to hers. "I don't deserve to be loved, like that."
Sighing, the hand she isn't holding rises to rake through his curls. "But if it's something I have to do, to help keep the casualties of this war to a minimum? To protect you? Then I have to risk scaring you away." Taking a moment to sip listlessly at his drink, Harper swallows hard before setting the glass back down, empty. "And if it does scare you, I don't want you staying because you gave your word. I wanted to warn you, or talk about it, beforehand." He won't push her away, won't sever these ties between them, because he loves her. Respects her autonomy. But it isn't easy either, to consider talking about these gaps in his history that he has shielded her from.
this time is no different
you will last
