My spores been growing by the day; my days been shining bright
It's all so brutal and logical that Mateo feels like he might actually throw a punch at his father, despite the fact that he can't punch for shit, and Remi is practically made of stone these days anyway. Trying to swallow down the sob that builds up in the back of his throat, he can't help but see Remi's body language as annoyed or exasperated, like he's being very unreasonable by having all these feelings about being the last of his name left alive.
So of course, in true Taliesin fashion, when Remi does reach for him the boy all but folds into the embrace, a sigh shuddering through him as he finally releases the breath he's been holding. "Ma non voglio che tu muoia," he cries, clutching at his father's shirt. "Come posso aiutare se non sono fuori?" He can't anyway, but at least there's the whisper of an option.
So of course, in true Taliesin fashion, when Remi does reach for him the boy all but folds into the embrace, a sigh shuddering through him as he finally releases the breath he's been holding. "Ma non voglio che tu muoia," he cries, clutching at his father's shirt. "Come posso aiutare se non sono fuori?" He can't anyway, but at least there's the whisper of an option.
mateo!
