（ it feels like a test — but he doesn't think it's one for him. if he gets up and leaves, does it prove something to the boy for whom tender acts eviscerate? his mind — ancient, eldritch, overclocked, built up and broken down, considers the possibilities that fan out from this moment and beyond. each one a thread that, when pulled, leads to an inevitable end.
he does sit up, one knee propped up, arm draped across it. there's an uneasy ache hooked in behind his ribs, but the yawning grief has nothing to do with his own emotions. he's just — fucking sad, for this kid that's sweet and soft and so badly hurt it bleeds off of him like an arterial severance. ）
I'll go, （ he says finally, and his voice is a thing that is quiet and still as standing water, like a lake with a mirror surface reflecting the dawn. ） but will you answer a question first?
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he does sit up, one knee propped up, arm draped across it. there's an uneasy ache hooked in behind his ribs, but the yawning grief has nothing to do with his own emotions. he's just — fucking sad, for this kid that's sweet and soft and so badly hurt it bleeds off of him like an arterial severance. ）
I'll go, （ he says finally, and his voice is a thing that is quiet and still as standing water, like a lake with a mirror surface reflecting the dawn. ） but will you answer a question first?