Entry tags:
[closed]
Who: Signless and the Disciple
Where: Disciple's house.
When: April 7th ish.
What: Signless shows up at Disciple's house.
Warnings: Some injuries and some suicidal ideation.
He leaves a speckled blood trail when he enters, his wounds still seeping blood through his body suit. The gaps in the bio material haven't yet had the chance to heal, and neither has his body. It doesn't seem urgent, and so he ignores it, the idea that he's bleeding only a passing thought as he searches the house for the Disciple. He can't feel her anywhere.
She must be gone.
It doesn't matter, he thinks. He came and that's all he needs to do, isn't it? This was his destination, and now that he's here...well, he doesn't have any more planned. This is as far as he's gotten.
He eventually curls up on the couch, trying to rest away the exhaustion of electrical injuries. If she shows up, she does. If not...it doesn't really matter. It doesn't.
Its chill without his cloak, having discarded it in the fight, but by the time she returns he's asleep.
Where: Disciple's house.
When: April 7th ish.
What: Signless shows up at Disciple's house.
Warnings: Some injuries and some suicidal ideation.
He leaves a speckled blood trail when he enters, his wounds still seeping blood through his body suit. The gaps in the bio material haven't yet had the chance to heal, and neither has his body. It doesn't seem urgent, and so he ignores it, the idea that he's bleeding only a passing thought as he searches the house for the Disciple. He can't feel her anywhere.
She must be gone.
It doesn't matter, he thinks. He came and that's all he needs to do, isn't it? This was his destination, and now that he's here...well, he doesn't have any more planned. This is as far as he's gotten.
He eventually curls up on the couch, trying to rest away the exhaustion of electrical injuries. If she shows up, she does. If not...it doesn't really matter. It doesn't.
Its chill without his cloak, having discarded it in the fight, but by the time she returns he's asleep.
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It's hard to keep her mind focused on that fact and to keep herself restrained but she manages and nuzzles his face in the way she always used to, finding happiness and comfort in his closeness and unique warmth.
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He slowly pulls away, and the sorrow is still there. It doesn't feel right. He's different now, and he doesn't know how to connect to this, and it makes him feel like his insides have been hollowed out.
He doesn't speak.
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She pulls away the same time that he does feeling, awkward, hurt and ashamed, feeling like she took advantage of his emotionally vulnerable state. She should have known better. She should have kept her distance and not so eagerly pounced on the faintest hint of affection.
"Sorry."
She looks into his face, trying to discern what's going through his head. "Will you try? To not go back. To go somewhere safe instead?" To stay here.
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"I'll end up there regardless."
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"I'm going to rest for a while," he says, diverting from that train of thought.
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He was still in there, she believed that wholly.