tablescraps: (pic#16649635)
Mithrun of House Kerensil ([personal profile] tablescraps) wrote in [community profile] altimit 2023-10-23 10:40 am (UTC)

( ...

He squeezes Oria's hands in turn. He's quiet.

Is "thank you" right here? Or is "sorry"? All this time, and he still doesn't have a hang of it. )


... I can't walk anymore.

( cw: hands in places that squelch )( He takes up one hand he's holding, and he takes Oria's palm to his chest, and he presses it in; it's tight, but it slides in easy with a wet sound. The inside is cold, like raw meat, and, despite the slick texture that presses against his skin at all sides, it's uncomfortably vacuous; there's no organs there, no bones. It's the cavern he's always said he's had, made real. )

I'm changing. I don't know if what I want matters.

( Or maybe that's why he still can want - to yearn for what he can't have, to embody that which is unrequited as his own benchmark. )

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