[ By tries to speak, finds his throat is too dry. Clears it, and says, more successfully - ]
About...a month.
[ And how absurd that is. A month. Looking at himself now, he looks close to madness, close to falling apart completely. How had he lasted another month? He wants to grab at his younger self, to take him by the shoulders and shout at him - go now, gather up enough money that you can fucking afford a bed and get out of here now, things are only going to get worse. But that's not how it'll go, is it? In a month, there'll be that night when By is drunk and goes to confront his father, and his father doesn't budge, and By grabs the knife and threatens to cut his throat then and there, and then he'll storm out with nothing in his pockets at all and a head full of shame and dishonor. If he'd gone now, while he looked on the brink of madness instead of fully immersed in it - Would he have spent his life so badly? Would he have spent a full decade trying to kill himself with drink? Or would he have gone to the capital and become something decent, someone happy...?
Get out, the both of you. Run, while you have a chance. Or is that a Louis-like cowardice speaking? He wonders for just a single, fleeting moment. As young-Byerly takes his plate and hurls it on the floor, as Nadine flinches, as By storms from the room - Byerly watches his father's face. There was sickness there. No question of it. Was fleeing - Was he just trying to save himself?
By rubs wearily at an eye. He tries something rather like a joke. ]
no subject
About...a month.
[ And how absurd that is. A month. Looking at himself now, he looks close to madness, close to falling apart completely. How had he lasted another month? He wants to grab at his younger self, to take him by the shoulders and shout at him - go now, gather up enough money that you can fucking afford a bed and get out of here now, things are only going to get worse. But that's not how it'll go, is it? In a month, there'll be that night when By is drunk and goes to confront his father, and his father doesn't budge, and By grabs the knife and threatens to cut his throat then and there, and then he'll storm out with nothing in his pockets at all and a head full of shame and dishonor. If he'd gone now, while he looked on the brink of madness instead of fully immersed in it - Would he have spent his life so badly? Would he have spent a full decade trying to kill himself with drink? Or would he have gone to the capital and become something decent, someone happy...?
Get out, the both of you. Run, while you have a chance. Or is that a Louis-like cowardice speaking? He wonders for just a single, fleeting moment. As young-Byerly takes his plate and hurls it on the floor, as Nadine flinches, as By storms from the room - Byerly watches his father's face. There was sickness there. No question of it. Was fleeing - Was he just trying to save himself?
By rubs wearily at an eye. He tries something rather like a joke. ]
Not my wittiest retort. Smashing dishware.