It may be delirium from pain, but that's unlike him. Even in agony, and under torture, he's composed. It's hard to tell what compromises him now; maybe it's just the situation itself, and the company he has in it. It escapes him now because... he isn't even sure.
The truth is: Atropos is in his lungs, urging him onward, and he cannot resist it through strength of will.
He can't remember the last time he called a woman beautiful, or even any compliment so direct that had nothing to do with combat. It's something she deserves to hear. She may never hear something kind said to her again, here at the end of all things. What harm would it do now, when the world was in pieces? He might as well give her that. It's as much as he can offer now, in his condition. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is still hazy, distant somehow, as he idly brushes a stray hair of hers back into position. It's hard to connect the words she says somehow, and there's another level to his response that slips by him: ] I'll stay.
no subject
It may be delirium from pain, but that's unlike him. Even in agony, and under torture, he's composed. It's hard to tell what compromises him now; maybe it's just the situation itself, and the company he has in it. It escapes him now because... he isn't even sure.
The truth is: Atropos is in his lungs, urging him onward, and he cannot resist it through strength of will.
He can't remember the last time he called a woman beautiful, or even any compliment so direct that had nothing to do with combat. It's something she deserves to hear. She may never hear something kind said to her again, here at the end of all things. What harm would it do now, when the world was in pieces? He might as well give her that. It's as much as he can offer now, in his condition. ]
Yeah. [ His voice is still hazy, distant somehow, as he idly brushes a stray hair of hers back into position. It's hard to connect the words she says somehow, and there's another level to his response that slips by him: ] I'll stay.