takewing | TRAUMA PROM

[w-with frustration, the kind that comes with knowing you want to prevent something but not knowing how to stop it]

You will not die today!

[Better me than somebody else. She doesn't say that, though; not yet.]

Not by her hand.

[he understands that distinction perfectly]

Not at all.

And if we can't find a way out of it within the next few minutes?

[She can't think of anything. They have no tools, there's no way out, Vanessa isn't responding to them--]

We will!

[practically snarling that answer out, and turning away from her to pull back his fist and then slam it hard against the glass dome]

[The glass doesn't so much as crack! His knuckles, on the other hand, are probably smarting.]

Khoalan!

[Catching his wrist, her grip tight.]

We've tried that already!

[They are, but he's rearing back for another punch anyway-- though she manages to catch his wrist before he hits it again]

There has to be a weak spot we missed!

You'd break both of your hands before you even managed to scratch the glass!

[Grabbing for his other wrist just in case.]

[she manages to do that, and he turns to face her]

I'm not givin' up without a fight!

[Looking him in the eye, trying to keep her own nerves out of her expression.]

Khoalan, listen to me. If . . . There's something I need you to do for me, if we can't get out of this.

[. . . falling silent, his gaze narrowing, because he thinks he knows exactly where this is going]

[. . . smiles.]

Look after Kou. Tell my mother. And stop her.

. . .

Nalea. . .

[he can't. he can't]

Please. You're the only one who can.

[thunks his head against hers, hands shaking]

Nalea--

[Leans into him, closing her eyes.]

. . . I know. I know.

I can't.

I. . . can't. I can't.

[closes his eyes tightly]

[Gently shifts her grip from his wrists to his hands.]

You can. There is always something worth living for. Kin and clan, the open sky, winding streets you've never walked before, the click of a lock first opened, foods you've yet to taste, friends you've met to meet . . .

None of those things are you.

[. . . this desperate, helpless note in his voice is very unfamiliar]

[It is, and it shreds into her heart. Tightens her grip on him, trying to keep her hand steady—]

. . . They're not. But, Khoalan, you're strong enough to walk without me, until we can meet again.

Edited 2014-01-14 13:27 (UTC)

Don't make me--

[it's so hard for him to say these words. he's never been one to beg, to cry, to let emotion overwhelm him. but the mere thought. . .]

[the mere thought that he wasn't able to protect her]

. . . Nalea, don't make me live without you.

Edited 2014-01-15 03:55 (UTC)

You have to. You have to live.

[no no no if he's crying it's going to make her cry. Sucks in a deep breath to try to stave it off.]

Please. Promise me.

I-- [can't, I can't-- which is an odd thing to think, when all of his instincts scream survival]

[he threads his fingers through her hair, curling them against her scalp]

You can --

[But she cuts herself off as water begins to bubble up through the seemingly solid floor. TIME'S UP. Spark will know with instinctive surety that he'll be able to breathe just fine, even when the room is completely flooded; Nalea, on the other hand, will be doomed to drown.]

[Which is pretty rad for an aquaphobic.]

W-What . . . ?! No! Not like this!

Edited 2014-01-18 10:21 (UTC)

[NO THIS IS NOT RAD AT ALL]

[clinging to her even more tightly, burying his face into her shoulder. HE'S STILL HAVING FEELINGS OVER THIS OKAY. . .]

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takewing - 2014-01-24 05:48 (UTC) - Expand