[ Heartbeat still ticking along in staccato, he draws in a slow breath, fills his lungs with the steadiness that Subaru is trying to anchor him with. Normally, he flinches from such intimate touch, especially introduced so soon.
There's something familiar in the curve of his palm though, a soothing nostalgic feeling he allows to stretch out between them both.
Maybe it's the way Subaru understands. This fragment of grief isn't just acknowledged, it's seen in all of its myriad colors. ]
I wish I hadn't, but there wasn't any other choice. [ Not wholly true: there is always a choice. His other option had been rejected out of hand, since it would be walking away from Cobb. No matter how many times he'd been tempted, especially as things had gotten worse, he hadn't been able to sever the tie.
He still isn't sure if that makes him idiotic, cowardly, or strangely admirable. ]
[ With his attempt to recall him cast and landing successfully, he does eventually withdraw his palm. In contrast to the swiftness and the surety of how he placed it, he now seems uncertain of where to relocate.
Too human, despite the ghosts. ]
That's the price the living pay to one another. In memory, mostly.
[ There is always a choice. However, the one that stands most protective is also the one that lacks humanity. To — abandon. Or forget, or go on to live one's life after the purging of death's mark from it. All carry a propensity for cruelty. Subaru has never learned which parts to keep and which to sever. It shows in his eyes. And he thinks, maybe, in the record's rifting, the strange inward glint of this dream as it cleaves to an understanding that now works in tandem outside of their dreamer's purview, it may be time to break away before he delves too deep.
Once eased of his tension by the dance, it fills out in him again beneath the opposite loop of Arthur's touch to his waist.
As if he's remembering where he is. ]
You taught me something kinder today than what I taught you.
[ As Subaru withdraws his hand, the intensity in his attention softens, like he's been caught in fugue and is coming back to himself. Or perhaps like he's possessed, in a way, by a calling he cannot ignore.
Ghosts, he thinks, don't always have to be someone departed. Sometimes, they're the weight of responsibility, the person who used to be a friend, the chorus of expectations from others.
Without knowing the other man too well, he can't guess which one lines the notches of his spine. At his words, he shakes his head slowly; always willing to be the one to disagree. ]
I've known. It isn't easy to think of, but I'mβ [ He pauses, considering his words, and gently catches Subaru's unsure hand in his. ] βglad, I think, to know someone understands without making it awkward.
[ If Subaru's words are an apology, his are a warm refusal, a silent thank you, despite it all. ]
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no subject
Date: 2026-02-02 03:41 am (UTC)There's something familiar in the curve of his palm though, a soothing nostalgic feeling he allows to stretch out between them both.
Maybe it's the way Subaru understands. This fragment of grief isn't just acknowledged, it's seen in all of its myriad colors. ]
I wish I hadn't, but there wasn't any other choice. [ Not wholly true: there is always a choice. His other option had been rejected out of hand, since it would be walking away from Cobb. No matter how many times he'd been tempted, especially as things had gotten worse, he hadn't been able to sever the tie.
He still isn't sure if that makes him idiotic, cowardly, or strangely admirable. ]
no subject
Date: 2026-02-06 06:36 am (UTC)Too human, despite the ghosts. ]
That's the price the living pay to one another. In memory, mostly.
[ There is always a choice. However, the one that stands most protective is also the one that lacks humanity. To — abandon. Or forget, or go on to live one's life after the purging of death's mark from it. All carry a propensity for cruelty. Subaru has never learned which parts to keep and which to sever. It shows in his eyes. And he thinks, maybe, in the record's rifting, the strange inward glint of this dream as it cleaves to an understanding that now works in tandem outside of their dreamer's purview, it may be time to break away before he delves too deep.
Once eased of his tension by the dance, it fills out in him again beneath the opposite loop of Arthur's touch to his waist.
As if he's remembering where he is. ]
You taught me something kinder today than what I taught you.
[ It almost sounds like,
I'm sorry. ]
π
Date: 2026-02-12 03:19 am (UTC)Ghosts, he thinks, don't always have to be someone departed. Sometimes, they're the weight of responsibility, the person who used to be a friend, the chorus of expectations from others.
Without knowing the other man too well, he can't guess which one lines the notches of his spine. At his words, he shakes his head slowly; always willing to be the one to disagree. ]
I've known. It isn't easy to think of, but I'mβ [ He pauses, considering his words, and gently catches Subaru's unsure hand in his. ] βglad, I think, to know someone understands without making it awkward.
[ If Subaru's words are an apology, his are a warm refusal, a silent thank you, despite it all. ]