[ He stares at the hand on his wrist and then back up at Fjord. There's fear on his pretty features, and something like regret in his eyes. ]
You said you only wanted what I can give. Well, here we are.
[ It hurt to say it, it kills him to wound this sweet man like this. His friend. But better now than when he fucks it up and hurts him even more. Molly's not a good person; he tries to be, wants to be but he knows he's fickle, and ornery and heading for destruction in one way or the other.
Dying didn't change that, even if he can't feel Lucien any more.
He's more trouble than he's worth, and he'd rather see it off now than later. (But Moonweaver, it hurt. He was happy just an hour ago and now he's terrified. ]
no subject
You said you only wanted what I can give. Well, here we are.
[ It hurt to say it, it kills him to wound this sweet man like this. His friend. But better now than when he fucks it up and hurts him even more. Molly's not a good person; he tries to be, wants to be but he knows he's fickle, and ornery and heading for destruction in one way or the other.
Dying didn't change that, even if he can't feel Lucien any more.
He's more trouble than he's worth, and he'd rather see it off now than later. (But Moonweaver, it hurt. He was happy just an hour ago and now he's terrified. ]
Let go of me, Fjord.