[Every inch of muscle that he has sinks into those waiting hands, thick tears welling in his eyes; the back of his throat feels clotted with compressed spit before he knows it. He's not a child anymore but he feels like it, crying into Kanan's arms over stupid things like skinned knees and ruined toys. A bad dream that felt too real.
This one isn't, though.
A bad dream, that is.
Eventually, he's going to have to face it again. The next time he sees Fenris— or the next time he sees Elise. There's no coming back from this, he's convinced of it, and it aches like the throbbing of his neck.]
....since last week, when Satine told me I'm old enough to start practicing if I want to.
[He swipes his nose across the sleeve of that robe, leaving a wet trail across the back of his wrist through sheer silk. In the mirror, his reflection looks angry, but that's always how he's looked when hurt. Burning from the inside out.]
no subject
This one isn't, though.
A bad dream, that is.
Eventually, he's going to have to face it again. The next time he sees Fenris— or the next time he sees Elise. There's no coming back from this, he's convinced of it, and it aches like the throbbing of his neck.]
....since last week, when Satine told me I'm old enough to start practicing if I want to.
[He swipes his nose across the sleeve of that robe, leaving a wet trail across the back of his wrist through sheer silk. In the mirror, his reflection looks angry, but that's always how he's looked when hurt. Burning from the inside out.]
It doesn't matter.
[Is a lie.]