she asks him that question, and his heart is as heavy as lead, settling into his stomach like anchor. he hasn't feel this pressure, this sort of—
gods, what is this? he doesn't know. all he knows is that she's warm against him, and his blood is ice, and this dread, this dread inside him is so familiar, latching onto him like a parasite that drains the color from his face.
he stares at her wideyed before gently, quietly responding. ]
At peace.
[ his arms are still wound around her. his grip on her tightens. ]
no subject
she asks him that question, and his heart is as heavy as lead, settling into his stomach like anchor. he hasn't feel this pressure, this sort of—
gods, what is this? he doesn't know. all he knows is that she's warm against him, and his blood is ice, and this dread, this dread inside him is so familiar, latching onto him like a parasite that drains the color from his face.
he stares at her wideyed before gently, quietly responding. ]
At peace.
[ his arms are still wound around her. his grip on her tightens. ]
I'm sorry. It's not your fault.