resurrect the saint within the wretch
If he allowed himself, he too would feel the exhaustion; but he wraps it tightly beneath him, pressed into the deepest recesses of his chest - along with all of the other feelings that could swallow him whole (anger, sadness, guilt - the list is neverending). Instead, he has found, that the only way to continue to walk and talk and eat is to allow the numbness to take over, to nearly pretend that none of it is happening - as if that would change the very real reality that is so obviously unwraveling before them both.
The light that surrounds them goes out; not in a flicker, but almost as if it has heaved its dying breath and settled into finality. It sends a shiver down his spine, settling heavily across his back. It disturbs him more than he would care to point out because it reminds him so much of the moment that he gave up, too. And if Lilliana is giving up, what will he do?
“Good,” he replies heavily, though there is no discernable reason for his voice to be so grave and low. But his chest tightens with a sudden worry - had he done this, had he made her light go out?
The Watcher heaves a sigh, shaking the weight that settles across him with a physical toss of his head. He, too, nearly wished to see the end - but it wouldn’t be the end of it all, only the end of himself. Then, perhaps, the world could continue to spin the way it was meant to, with the future coming one minute at a time, without his eyes to see it before it happens. Suddenly, his face becomes amused at the thought of immortality - something he did not have. “Perhaps you are more cursed than I am, then.” There is nearly a smile on his pale lips and the hint of laughter somewhere in the depths of his baritone voice. A cruel joke, but one that is lined with a morbid hope that at least his visions would one day end with his own death.
“When it’s gone?” The stallion becomes contemplative under Leonidas’ light, lifting his face to the star once again. “Well, I assume you’ll do what I did.”
He turns to her slowly, his horns casting long shadows across his back. “You find someone who still has hope and then cling to it as tightly as you can. I’ve been borrowing yours for quite some time now.” A thief, he thinks to himself bitterly.
@[lilliana]
