[Tension cracks. The temperature restabilizes, and the rigid line of his shoulders wilts as he lets go of the breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The confusion that passes over his face is muted and brief, but there. He'd almost expected them to come to blows; he doesn't understand what changed in the span of a few seconds.
But it's there, again—the flicker, the thread. Something to hold onto, something to pull on until the rest unravels. There's no denying that there is something now, not after what just happened. November can't be empty, no matter how much he'd like to be.
Anders should be relieved. Satisfied. This should feel like a victory.
Instead, he just feels weary. There's no cure for Tranquility, not one he's ever heard of. How would someone cope with rediscovering their own emotions after so long separated from them? He doesn't know.
But how much does that matter, in the end? If there's one thing he's always been sure of, it's that no one deserves to live this way.]
All I've done is tell you the truth. [His voice is quieter now, softer around the edges.] You might want to consider listening.
no subject
But it's there, again—the flicker, the thread. Something to hold onto, something to pull on until the rest unravels. There's no denying that there is something now, not after what just happened. November can't be empty, no matter how much he'd like to be.
Anders should be relieved. Satisfied. This should feel like a victory.
Instead, he just feels weary. There's no cure for Tranquility, not one he's ever heard of. How would someone cope with rediscovering their own emotions after so long separated from them? He doesn't know.
But how much does that matter, in the end? If there's one thing he's always been sure of, it's that no one deserves to live this way.]
All I've done is tell you the truth. [His voice is quieter now, softer around the edges.] You might want to consider listening.