He doesn't understand how you can push things aside, how you can overcome the weight of the hurt and grief, and how you can push through it and keep going. Even as he keeps telling himself, over and over and over, that this is the right course of action, even if this is what they have to do, living with the burden is killing him. Phainon doesn't know if he's going to be able to come out of this the other side with any part of himself intact.
Phainon cries, he weeps, he breaks, because he has no other option. It stings, it makes his heart lurch, it makes him want to tear his skin off, it makes him want to crumble, but he cannot. He just can't. This is the world that he loves and the one he wants to save, above all else, and if he has to carry the weight of it all, then he will do what he must.
The craving for something to make is all fade and disappear overcomes him, but he shoves it aside. He can't rely on anyone but himself, can he?
Can he rely on Khaslana, who had placed this burden on him so easily?
Was it easy?
Looking up, he leans into the touch, swallowing the lump in his throat, the way his tongue feels dry. It's hard to speak, but he has to. He can't falter here, now, can he? ]
No. I can't regret the choices I made. I have to keep looking forward, to the future that this world deserves. To the... The path that is...
[ He crumbles a little, reaching out to grasp at the other man's arm. ]
I want them to be happy. I'm doing this for them. Whatever happens to me doesn't matter, does it?
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He doesn't understand how you can push things aside, how you can overcome the weight of the hurt and grief, and how you can push through it and keep going. Even as he keeps telling himself, over and over and over, that this is the right course of action, even if this is what they have to do, living with the burden is killing him. Phainon doesn't know if he's going to be able to come out of this the other side with any part of himself intact.
Phainon cries, he weeps, he breaks, because he has no other option. It stings, it makes his heart lurch, it makes him want to tear his skin off, it makes him want to crumble, but he cannot. He just can't. This is the world that he loves and the one he wants to save, above all else, and if he has to carry the weight of it all, then he will do what he must.
The craving for something to make is all fade and disappear overcomes him, but he shoves it aside. He can't rely on anyone but himself, can he?
Can he rely on Khaslana, who had placed this burden on him so easily?
Was it easy?
Looking up, he leans into the touch, swallowing the lump in his throat, the way his tongue feels dry. It's hard to speak, but he has to. He can't falter here, now, can he? ]
No. I can't regret the choices I made. I have to keep looking forward, to the future that this world deserves. To the... The path that is...
[ He crumbles a little, reaching out to grasp at the other man's arm. ]
I want them to be happy. I'm doing this for them. Whatever happens to me doesn't matter, does it?