06-11-2021, 02:51 PM
kensley
i swore the days were over of courting empty dreams
They had been friends once. He does not need to read her thoughts to know that the apology is coming. He shakes his head, smiling gently before she can even get the words out.
“Don’t be sorry,” he says and he means it, just as she had meant it.
He does not know what has happened. He does not know what has taken the memory of him from her but he knows that it is not her fault.
He had tried to save her from any potential embarrassment by shifting the conversation to the return of the light, but he is so acutely aware of the weight of her gaze on his face. She does not look away from him, not even when he shifts his own focus to the horizon and remembers the years he spent watching the colors change. Not sleeping. Just watching. The dead did not require sleep, after all.
And then the darkness had come and nothing ever changed until he had changed. The darkness came and his son might have been responsible but it didn’t matter when the darkness gave him his pulse back.
He swallows in response to her question and draws his gaze back to her face, aware that the answer is much simpler than she might fear it to be.
“Is a friendship still a friendship if only one part of it remembers?” he asks and then smiles patiently, head tilted as he comes to an answer for his own question. “I guess I don’t see why it can’t be.” And then he rolls a shoulder in a kind of shrug. “We’re still friends, then. I’m your friend Kensley.”
“Don’t be sorry,” he says and he means it, just as she had meant it.
He does not know what has happened. He does not know what has taken the memory of him from her but he knows that it is not her fault.
He had tried to save her from any potential embarrassment by shifting the conversation to the return of the light, but he is so acutely aware of the weight of her gaze on his face. She does not look away from him, not even when he shifts his own focus to the horizon and remembers the years he spent watching the colors change. Not sleeping. Just watching. The dead did not require sleep, after all.
And then the darkness had come and nothing ever changed until he had changed. The darkness came and his son might have been responsible but it didn’t matter when the darkness gave him his pulse back.
He swallows in response to her question and draws his gaze back to her face, aware that the answer is much simpler than she might fear it to be.
“Is a friendship still a friendship if only one part of it remembers?” he asks and then smiles patiently, head tilted as he comes to an answer for his own question. “I guess I don’t see why it can’t be.” And then he rolls a shoulder in a kind of shrug. “We’re still friends, then. I’m your friend Kensley.”
i worshipped at the altar of losing everything
@[Agetta]