[ His eyes crack back open at the idea that she could give him some Zenith. No, not just that; that she could take Meridian away from him. Help him get rid of this painful longing, help him eliminate something incompatible with the very being he had to become. He lifts his head up properly as she talks, the rest of her words barely registering as a new kind of hope — a more natural kind; a less painful kind, because it's something realistic to hope for, because it's his — rises up in him in tandem. ]
I don't need anyone to listen. Soon as this stuff is out of me, my heart won't hurt like that again.
[ Or at least not in a way that he'll be able to consciously perceive. As far as Amos knows, he really, truly will be fine once he's set back to normal.
He reaches out with his free hand, puts it over hers, and looks into her eyes. ]
Trade me.
[ It's a request — desperate and pleading, but a request all the same. ]
no subject
I don't need anyone to listen. Soon as this stuff is out of me, my heart won't hurt like that again.
[ Or at least not in a way that he'll be able to consciously perceive. As far as Amos knows, he really, truly will be fine once he's set back to normal.
He reaches out with his free hand, puts it over hers, and looks into her eyes. ]
Trade me.
[ It's a request — desperate and pleading, but a request all the same. ]