[There's the door the other Byerly fled through, what feels like a long time ago now. Another door which seems to lead outside, although appearances in these memories can be deceptive. Prior doesn't turn to look at either of them, yet. Fingertips brush trails up Byerly's sleeve, over his shoulder, to catch and hold the back of his neck.]
Oh, there is. You'll take it with you, though, all this. We can never leave it behind, really. Like the saying - wherever you go, there you are. So - anyway, I love you.
[He takes the breath he should have taken before that last part after saying it instead, quick and nervous.]
And you can tell me I'm obvious, you can tell me whatever you want, but I've only half said it before. [I've been half in love with you - ] Because I was scared. Because loving hurts, because it's hopeful. But if I'm going to say it anywhere it may as well be here, so you can take that with you, too. I don't want to be someone who keeps things from you. I love you. I don't plan to stop.
[And that said, he looks at the door, the other door, and then leads Byerly toward the opposite wall, unrelenting stone, which rips itself apart in the corner as Prior reaches out to touch. It makes a small, rubble-filled doorway, which isn't so very different from the land beyond.
They're in a city much like San Fransisco. Or like it might have been in the moments after the great earthquake struck. Rubble and wreckage everywhere, upturned crates, tumbledown walls with weeds growing thick between the brickwork.
no subject
Oh, there is. You'll take it with you, though, all this. We can never leave it behind, really. Like the saying - wherever you go, there you are. So - anyway, I love you.
[He takes the breath he should have taken before that last part after saying it instead, quick and nervous.]
And you can tell me I'm obvious, you can tell me whatever you want, but I've only half said it before. [I've been half in love with you - ] Because I was scared. Because loving hurts, because it's hopeful. But if I'm going to say it anywhere it may as well be here, so you can take that with you, too. I don't want to be someone who keeps things from you. I love you. I don't plan to stop.
[And that said, he looks at the door, the other door, and then leads Byerly toward the opposite wall, unrelenting stone, which rips itself apart in the corner as Prior reaches out to touch. It makes a small, rubble-filled doorway, which isn't so very different from the land beyond.
They're in a city much like San Fransisco. Or like it might have been in the moments after the great earthquake struck. Rubble and wreckage everywhere, upturned crates, tumbledown walls with weeds growing thick between the brickwork.
Prior looks up at Byerly expectantly.]
So where are we now?