[ she won't hold it against him necessarily, yes, but what about him?
Heine drags all manner of past sins and present behind him, every step weighted down by the ghosts and his own shortcomings, regret shadowing every breath he takes. at some times, indeed, he would seem more dead than alive, caught fast in the holds of his guilt that he can't get away from.
this, too, would be one of them.
against all odds and beliefs, it is real. the slight bit of warmth on his hand as nill's fingers find his, it's real. ghosts, after all, weren't warm.
he blinks, as if shaking himself free of a dream. his eyes clear a little, the cloudy film lifting slightly, as he looks at her again, once more and anew. ]
...
[ after a long silence, a hundred heartbeats worth from the way his heart seems to try and beat its way out of the confines of his ribs, he lets out a breath. the corner of his mouth lift slightly; tired, awkward, guarded in the way he drops his gaze. ]
Sorry.
[ always that one word; her eyes are so clear and bright as she stares - like she can see and understand everything and anything that much more clearly than anyone else by the grace of her deficiency, a distorted reflection (a monster) gazing back at him, that he find that he cannot look at her directly.
another breath, and his fingers close around hers, careful. ]
no subject
Heine drags all manner of past sins and present behind him, every step weighted down by the ghosts and his own shortcomings, regret shadowing every breath he takes. at some times, indeed, he would seem more dead than alive, caught fast in the holds of his guilt that he can't get away from.
this, too, would be one of them.
against all odds and beliefs, it is real. the slight bit of warmth on his hand as nill's fingers find his, it's real. ghosts, after all, weren't warm.
he blinks, as if shaking himself free of a dream. his eyes clear a little, the cloudy film lifting slightly, as he looks at her again, once more and anew. ]
...
[ after a long silence, a hundred heartbeats worth from the way his heart seems to try and beat its way out of the confines of his ribs, he lets out a breath. the corner of his mouth lift slightly; tired, awkward, guarded in the way he drops his gaze. ]
Sorry.
[ always that one word; her eyes are so clear and bright as she stares - like she can see and understand everything and anything that much more clearly than anyone else by the grace of her deficiency, a distorted reflection (a monster) gazing back at him, that he find that he cannot look at her directly.
another breath, and his fingers close around hers, careful. ]