Then Myr sets his crystal down on his desk with a quiet click and buries his face further in his hands. Maker, please, is all he can manage of a prayer before the blackness swells up and chokes him and he bites his tongue to keep from screaming--or sobbing.
What's happened to him that he can't make himself understood anymore?
He can't give himself time enough to let the megrim pass, to wrestle it drunkenly back down where it belongs. He has to answer--has to try--has to not fuck it up this time because he can't stand the thought of Van not speaking to him, again.
He picks the crystal back up.]
You were better, [the words are spoken so, so carefully,] at knowing what I couldn't give up and letting me be. I thought.
I thought you didn't hold that against me. Hold--my faith against me, the way I held what you wanted against you.
Even when I knew you were smothering. When I knew it would be better for you to go.
I prayed, Van. I begged Him to take that anger away and He wouldn't.
You deserved better and anger wouldn't get you that. And then you were gone and I thought I'd never have the chance again.
[Starving and freezing and running and watching my friends get butchered one by one-- While Myr at least had the safety of a roof over his head, of people he called family around him, even if they'd most of them grown strange around him. It hadn't been so bad. It hadn't--]
no subject
Then Myr sets his crystal down on his desk with a quiet click and buries his face further in his hands. Maker, please, is all he can manage of a prayer before the blackness swells up and chokes him and he bites his tongue to keep from screaming--or sobbing.
What's happened to him that he can't make himself understood anymore?
He can't give himself time enough to let the megrim pass, to wrestle it drunkenly back down where it belongs. He has to answer--has to try--has to not fuck it up this time because he can't stand the thought of Van not speaking to him, again.
He picks the crystal back up.]
You were better, [the words are spoken so, so carefully,] at knowing what I couldn't give up and letting me be. I thought.
I thought you didn't hold that against me. Hold--my faith against me, the way I held what you wanted against you.
Even when I knew you were smothering. When I knew it would be better for you to go.
I prayed, Van. I begged Him to take that anger away and He wouldn't.
You deserved better and anger wouldn't get you that. And then you were gone and I thought I'd never have the chance again.
[Starving and freezing and running and watching my friends get butchered one by one-- While Myr at least had the safety of a roof over his head, of people he called family around him, even if they'd most of them grown strange around him. It hadn't been so bad. It hadn't--]
What did it mean to you?