[ That earns a startled little jerk, both physically and across their connection, a little blip of something surprised and wary. There’s a brief pause before Gen grits without words, ]
What difference does it make.
[ But lying across Communion is a fairly futile endeavor.
Those words prickle with the same sort of defensive ire that that younger version of his had displayed, almost as easy to see through. Gen is loathe to admit it out loud, but a small part of him does desperately want Dextera to take that step for him. (Simply because he’s sick and tired of dealing with that wretched thing, he tells himself. Not because the prospect of dying at Dextera’s hands, even by proxy, sends a strange thrill of gratification shivering through his guts.)
The child, meanwhile, unaware of that covert exchange between them, gives a derisive little huff aimed at Dextera. ]
Say something! [ Even so, he does back off a half-step to let Dextera continue patting at that little grave. ] Or you’re just admitting I’m right! I know how I have to be!
no subject
What difference does it make.
[ But lying across Communion is a fairly futile endeavor.
Those words prickle with the same sort of defensive ire that that younger version of his had displayed, almost as easy to see through. Gen is loathe to admit it out loud, but a small part of him does desperately want Dextera to take that step for him. (Simply because he’s sick and tired of dealing with that wretched thing, he tells himself. Not because the prospect of dying at Dextera’s hands, even by proxy, sends a strange thrill of gratification shivering through his guts.)
The child, meanwhile, unaware of that covert exchange between them, gives a derisive little huff aimed at Dextera. ]
Say something! [ Even so, he does back off a half-step to let Dextera continue patting at that little grave. ] Or you’re just admitting I’m right! I know how I have to be!