[He shifts his weight forward without taking a step, like he - he wants to comfort her. She just stabbed him, but he wants to make her feel - whole, or full, or just alive.
But he can't do any of that now. He's not sure he'll ever be able to.
So he shifts back again, turning to find the coil. For a second, he turns it in his hands, staring at his blood. His chest has already healed, he can feel that. It's so weird, staring at a weapon with his DNA on it, knowing the wound that produced it - it's dumb and cyclical and he shakes the thought free, turning to look at her instead.]
no subject
But he can't do any of that now. He's not sure he'll ever be able to.
So he shifts back again, turning to find the coil. For a second, he turns it in his hands, staring at his blood. His chest has already healed, he can feel that. It's so weird, staring at a weapon with his DNA on it, knowing the wound that produced it - it's dumb and cyclical and he shakes the thought free, turning to look at her instead.]
Please don't be scared of me.