03-17-2017, 03:44 PM
Ruan
Distant, so muffled and far away when it tickled at his mind, the sound of his name. He wasn't ready to release this blackness yet, wasn't ready to face the emotions that would assault him upon waking. Wasn't ready to fight to keep them, hold them as they bled him. Because the alternative was worse. The alternative was so much better, so less painful. But monstrous. Dangerous. It was worse, worse, don't forget that it was worse.
His name again, a little more clear, a little louder, and a light pressure on his cheek. He tried to frown, weakly, but it was a pathetic downward tilt to his brows and not much more. ..wake up, and her voice sounded like a whisper, even when he told himself it wasn't, that it should be louder to him. Reagan. It must be. Nobody else touches him, not without rebuff. Not even his daughters. Jinju had come to learn that so recently.
His heart sighed, reluctant, trying to form the walls and foundations to hold up the weight of his emotions. The figurative movements were slow, sleepy, so tired of this fight within himself. So tired of feeling, of doing whats right by bearing so much pain. He could almost see it, that place of glowing power and the dark promise of Unfeeling, could almost reach for it if he wanted to. And he did want to. He wasn't perfect, he could be selfish too.
But he does what is right.
He winced, groaned against the physical pain of his haphazard wounds as he allowed her to lift the fog of unconsciousness with her voice, her touch. The tsunami of emotions hadn't come yet, not yet, still held at bay somehow as he rolled stiffly to sit up more. He blinked, sighing. It would come soon. But when he turned a blank face to her, it was not who he expected at all.
Hawke, he dropped blandly, as though trying to convince himself of the truth of it. Hawke. It was Hawke. He knew Hawke, he remembered her. She was full grown now, filled out and graceful in that wildly beautiful way that belongs to someone of the wilderness, so free spirited. He didn't think he had anything like that, though. Just wild in the bad ways, in the confusing ways that made him too strange, too different. But he brushed it aside in heavy acceptance.
She was too close though, just a little, and he pushed her nose a gently away with his, a half-hearted nudge. It was an improvement though, considering he'd bitten her the last time she got too close. She didn't mean it in any inappropriate way, he knew, and really he just needed his space. It didn't make him like or dislike her any differently. In truth, he was pleased to see her again, and had often wondered when or if he ever would.
Still so loved, he commented with a weak smile and an emptiness in his eyes. She was radiant and lively. It was a shame she couldn't bleed a little of it into him and strengthen him, but he would withstand. He always did.
How have you been.
His name again, a little more clear, a little louder, and a light pressure on his cheek. He tried to frown, weakly, but it was a pathetic downward tilt to his brows and not much more. ..wake up, and her voice sounded like a whisper, even when he told himself it wasn't, that it should be louder to him. Reagan. It must be. Nobody else touches him, not without rebuff. Not even his daughters. Jinju had come to learn that so recently.
His heart sighed, reluctant, trying to form the walls and foundations to hold up the weight of his emotions. The figurative movements were slow, sleepy, so tired of this fight within himself. So tired of feeling, of doing whats right by bearing so much pain. He could almost see it, that place of glowing power and the dark promise of Unfeeling, could almost reach for it if he wanted to. And he did want to. He wasn't perfect, he could be selfish too.
But he does what is right.
He winced, groaned against the physical pain of his haphazard wounds as he allowed her to lift the fog of unconsciousness with her voice, her touch. The tsunami of emotions hadn't come yet, not yet, still held at bay somehow as he rolled stiffly to sit up more. He blinked, sighing. It would come soon. But when he turned a blank face to her, it was not who he expected at all.
Hawke, he dropped blandly, as though trying to convince himself of the truth of it. Hawke. It was Hawke. He knew Hawke, he remembered her. She was full grown now, filled out and graceful in that wildly beautiful way that belongs to someone of the wilderness, so free spirited. He didn't think he had anything like that, though. Just wild in the bad ways, in the confusing ways that made him too strange, too different. But he brushed it aside in heavy acceptance.
She was too close though, just a little, and he pushed her nose a gently away with his, a half-hearted nudge. It was an improvement though, considering he'd bitten her the last time she got too close. She didn't mean it in any inappropriate way, he knew, and really he just needed his space. It didn't make him like or dislike her any differently. In truth, he was pleased to see her again, and had often wondered when or if he ever would.
Still so loved, he commented with a weak smile and an emptiness in his eyes. She was radiant and lively. It was a shame she couldn't bleed a little of it into him and strengthen him, but he would withstand. He always did.
How have you been.
