[ dextera is not unaccustomed to this. not from people, not even from makoto, but this still catches him off-guard. there’s only the briefest hint of warning through the open lines of communion, like the way the air feels just before a lightning strike, but it’s far from enough for dextera to anticipate it any more than instinctively.
makoto lunges, and he’s pushed back so that his back hits the damp ground and a surprised more than pained air is loosed from between his ribs.
he can take physical pressure. there’s no fear of dying under makoto right now, and that’s the one thing that would make him tense up to protect himself in his final moments—instead, it’s the fear of the emotional weight that feels like it’s falling from makoto’s gaze right onto dextera’s chest that makes him restless, almost wild, in a passive mirror of makoto’s impulsive demands.
what’s wrong with not trying? why should he have to try once he’s lost? the indignant thoughts are his sole defense, kept as private as they can be when the roots want them open.
in fleeting anger, he grabs makoto’s wrists—and for a moment, he sees himself as just a slightly different person, purifying someone he cares about at their most vulnerable just so that he doesn’t have to confront the things he doesn’t want to. but makoto stills, and dextera is a merciful god. ]
no subject
makoto lunges, and he’s pushed back so that his back hits the damp ground and a surprised more than pained air is loosed from between his ribs.
he can take physical pressure. there’s no fear of dying under makoto right now, and that’s the one thing that would make him tense up to protect himself in his final moments—instead, it’s the fear of the emotional weight that feels like it’s falling from makoto’s gaze right onto dextera’s chest that makes him restless, almost wild, in a passive mirror of makoto’s impulsive demands.
what’s wrong with not trying? why should he have to try once he’s lost? the indignant thoughts are his sole defense, kept as private as they can be when the roots want them open.
in fleeting anger, he grabs makoto’s wrists—and for a moment, he sees himself as just a slightly different person, purifying someone he cares about at their most vulnerable just so that he doesn’t have to confront the things he doesn’t want to. but makoto stills, and dextera is a merciful god. ]
…
[ his gaze is clear, fixed on makoto’s face. ]
Then I would go with you. I’d rather go with you.