[ Her eyes open suddenly when he rests his other hand on top of hers, her gaze finally raising to try to meet his. Even as his eyes are unfocused, she remains transfixed, flickering slightly from right to left as if she could find some kind of answer in his gaze. Some reason why he would do something that... honestly it's just as stunning as her words had been to him.
Perhaps because no one has ever done anything like that before. Held her there and spoke gently but firmly; like sharing some kind of secret that was so very important. She doesn't dare move, because she's afraid that she might break that spell shared between them.
But telling her that it's okay, and what's more, telling her that it's pointless to be upset for him because of who he is—that somehow it's all right because of who he is—sits heavy in her chest. Not that he could live without regret, and act without hesitation as he did while fighting the vileling. She can understand that and would only agree to that point. But to say that it was pointless to be upset about the thought of losing someone...
No. No, she can't do that. She can't simply push that thought aside. She can't act as if everything will be all right, or refuse to get upset at the idea that he's in this state now due to her own self-perceived negligence. And perhaps that's something that he can't understand, having others who he thinks of fondly—having a home made up of those smiling faces, who would welcome him back no matter how long they were apart. People who accepted the kind of person who he was, who were like him. Exorcists.
And because she may never have something like that, if something happened to him...
...No, she's not going to think about that. She's not going to think of any of that. That loneliness that comes from hiding in plain sight, and the fear of losing someone who might be able to see past that. She's thinking too much.
(Please don't talk like that, Allen. She isn't sure how to deal with it. It's too sad.)
Instead, her shoulders slump gently, and exhaling gently, she begins to get a grip over herself. Her light still extending outward, it isn't as violently bright as before, but still present as a gentle glimmer and warmth. Even as she starts to calm herself, she doesn't yet move, still leaning in with foreheads gently pressed together.
It's strangely grounding, even if she isn't quite sure why. ]
How can you be so certain? Even like this... how can you make a promise like that?
[ She wants to believe it as well. More than anything. ]
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Perhaps because no one has ever done anything like that before. Held her there and spoke gently but firmly; like sharing some kind of secret that was so very important. She doesn't dare move, because she's afraid that she might break that spell shared between them.
But telling her that it's okay, and what's more, telling her that it's pointless to be upset for him because of who he is—that somehow it's all right because of who he is—sits heavy in her chest. Not that he could live without regret, and act without hesitation as he did while fighting the vileling. She can understand that and would only agree to that point. But to say that it was pointless to be upset about the thought of losing someone...
No. No, she can't do that. She can't simply push that thought aside. She can't act as if everything will be all right, or refuse to get upset at the idea that he's in this state now due to her own self-perceived negligence. And perhaps that's something that he can't understand, having others who he thinks of fondly—having a home made up of those smiling faces, who would welcome him back no matter how long they were apart. People who accepted the kind of person who he was, who were like him. Exorcists.
And because she may never have something like that, if something happened to him...
...No, she's not going to think about that. She's not going to think of any of that. That loneliness that comes from hiding in plain sight, and the fear of losing someone who might be able to see past that. She's thinking too much.
(Please don't talk like that, Allen. She isn't sure how to deal with it. It's too sad.)
Instead, her shoulders slump gently, and exhaling gently, she begins to get a grip over herself. Her light still extending outward, it isn't as violently bright as before, but still present as a gentle glimmer and warmth. Even as she starts to calm herself, she doesn't yet move, still leaning in with foreheads gently pressed together.
It's strangely grounding, even if she isn't quite sure why. ]
How can you be so certain? Even like this... how can you make a promise like that?
[ She wants to believe it as well. More than anything. ]