[ He's trying so hard to not break down, but her words are so heartbroken. He knows what that means. He knows she's already lost Zuala. She couldn't save her.
She couldn't save him. There's too much loss. (His lashes are wet.)]
Yasha. [ He says, softly. ] I'm sorry.
[ Molly leans up on his tippy-toes and kisses her forehead. ]
We'll ask who we can, but... you promised me you would go home if you could. Just remember that.
(Yasha closes her eyes, her head jerking minutely as he kisses her forehead. It feels like he means to mollify her. She can't find comfort in it, and folds her arms across her chest as he leans back again, walling herself off. Protecting her heart.
Because she did promise that, she remembers it. Is it so bad that she only wants to find a way for him to come home too?)
... Okay.
(She needs to leave, she feels itchy with it. The Historian hadn't told her exactly when they would dissolve this world for good but they had used the word 'soon', and she doesn't want to run out of time before she works out a way to fix this. Though, from the way Molly has reacted, Yasha now has the distinct idea that the only person she is doing this for is herself, and she doesn't know how to feel about that at all.
Her expression must be brewing like a storm.)
I can ask. You... stay here. I'll come back. (Just like always.)
[ He can see it all, the way she walls up, the way she wants to distance herself. How hurt she is, in many different ways.
It cracks something inside him again and he wants to lash out, to yell and hiss and scream at her so she hates him and leaves him here. The saner part of him could never do that, because he loves her so much.
(Yeah, this isn't great for anybody involved, huh. Yasha shifts her weight to her other foot, then relents the tight fold of her arms so she can lean forward and push a kiss to his cheek before she turns and leaves. Because even though though she feels so helpless and angry and uncertain and hurt, she still loves him, and she won't ever leave him without reminding him of that. Even with the briefest of gestures.
Anyway. She's going to find Beau, because she really needs somebody to be on her side about this right now if she's going to figure out what to do next.)
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She couldn't save him. There's too much loss. (His lashes are wet.)]
Yasha. [ He says, softly. ] I'm sorry.
[ Molly leans up on his tippy-toes and kisses her forehead. ]
We'll ask who we can, but... you promised me you would go home if you could. Just remember that.
no subject
Because she did promise that, she remembers it. Is it so bad that she only wants to find a way for him to come home too?)
... Okay.
(She needs to leave, she feels itchy with it. The Historian hadn't told her exactly when they would dissolve this world for good but they had used the word 'soon', and she doesn't want to run out of time before she works out a way to fix this. Though, from the way Molly has reacted, Yasha now has the distinct idea that the only person she is doing this for is herself, and she doesn't know how to feel about that at all.
Her expression must be brewing like a storm.)
I can ask. You... stay here. I'll come back. (Just like always.)
no subject
It cracks something inside him again and he wants to lash out, to yell and hiss and scream at her so she hates him and leaves him here. The saner part of him could never do that, because he loves her so much.
Instead he just... stand there. Lost. ]
...alright.
no subject
Anyway. She's going to find Beau, because she really needs somebody to be on her side about this right now if she's going to figure out what to do next.)