[He stiffened, spine rigid as G'raha took his sleeve. Controlled. So he wouldn't lash out. So he wouldn't burn him with the fires raging in his head and in his heart.]
Go back? Would you kill this venerable one's father for him? So that he would not have to be the one to make that final blow and become the monster he became?
[It came out accusatory. The fires of the room flaring so brightly it was no different than daylight. But he didn't move. Careful. He had to be careful. Controlled.
But G'raha moved on to something more painful. The ache in his heart that was Orchid-shaped. Who was his, but not his. Who had chosen him, but not him. Someone who made him happy. G'raha had made him happy, too. A feeling that filled his chest in a way that nearly hurt but only in a way that also made him crave to have more of it.
He knew pride when he saw his crew working enthusiastically on their projects. He knew something that might be happiness when they were excited. He knew anger when they were injured. He knew pain when they left. Disappeared because of the fickleness of the rifts or because they decided they wanted something else. Someone else.
Always someone else.
The fires died out and he shut his eyes, turning his face away. Willing the heat of tears threatening to shed to go away and leave him some semblance of face.
He shouldn't feel at all. But he kept putting off the destruction of his Seven Emotion Tree. For what? More pain upon more pain because the fleeting taste of happiness was that intoxicating?]
no subject
Go back? Would you kill this venerable one's father for him? So that he would not have to be the one to make that final blow and become the monster he became?
[It came out accusatory. The fires of the room flaring so brightly it was no different than daylight. But he didn't move. Careful. He had to be careful. Controlled.
But G'raha moved on to something more painful. The ache in his heart that was Orchid-shaped. Who was his, but not his. Who had chosen him, but not him. Someone who made him happy. G'raha had made him happy, too. A feeling that filled his chest in a way that nearly hurt but only in a way that also made him crave to have more of it.
He knew pride when he saw his crew working enthusiastically on their projects. He knew something that might be happiness when they were excited. He knew anger when they were injured. He knew pain when they left. Disappeared because of the fickleness of the rifts or because they decided they wanted something else. Someone else.
Always someone else.
The fires died out and he shut his eyes, turning his face away. Willing the heat of tears threatening to shed to go away and leave him some semblance of face.
He shouldn't feel at all. But he kept putting off the destruction of his Seven Emotion Tree. For what? More pain upon more pain because the fleeting taste of happiness was that intoxicating?]