[It's like a choker chain that's been pulled taut around his neck for so long he's forgotten how it feels to be without it. It's part of him, that pressure always applied to his air supply, limiting just how much he can breathe. But once he's reminded that it's there, and how tight it is, it's like years worth of suffocation catches up to him in a single moment. It's crushing, all consuming, and honestly fucking terrifying.
He nods, wetting his far too dry lips as he tries to piece his mind back together. It's a strange comfort how she brushes off his stupid mistake, how she lets it go and seems to forgive it. It makes it easier for him to let it go too, but he doesn't. Not yet, but he will. It's always been hard for him to forgive himself his flaws and missteps. A learned trait.
That light punch is honestly the best comfort in this whole thing. It's the most normal out of this chaotic mess, and he can't even describe how much the gesture means to him.]
I think—[he starts, his voice is rough, in part because of how dry his throat is after that, but also because of how worn he feels]—you've done enough for me.
[It's completely true, he couldn't think of a single thing he would or could ask of her at this point. Not after everything, not after that. She deserves a breather, for as long as he wants. For as long as she needs. He wouldn't blame her if she ran away and never came back, but he knows by now that's not her, and she never would do that to him. To anyone she cares about...]
With his prisine track record, that's sound advice
He nods, wetting his far too dry lips as he tries to piece his mind back together. It's a strange comfort how she brushes off his stupid mistake, how she lets it go and seems to forgive it. It makes it easier for him to let it go too, but he doesn't. Not yet, but he will. It's always been hard for him to forgive himself his flaws and missteps. A learned trait.
That light punch is honestly the best comfort in this whole thing. It's the most normal out of this chaotic mess, and he can't even describe how much the gesture means to him.]
I think—[he starts, his voice is rough, in part because of how dry his throat is after that, but also because of how worn he feels]—you've done enough for me.
[It's completely true, he couldn't think of a single thing he would or could ask of her at this point. Not after everything, not after that. She deserves a breather, for as long as he wants. For as long as she needs. He wouldn't blame her if she ran away and never came back, but he knows by now that's not her, and she never would do that to him. To anyone she cares about...]