That feels so long ago. Both by the avoxing between and it truly having been long ago now. His hair is shorter than it had been then, but her point is the same. He had hated it. It does make him look young.
He remembers her response to his faith. He remembers who scathing she was to hear of it, how much the loathing poured that he'd wondered why she'd want to be near him at all when it was all he knew to be. It hadn't be surprising or none, ain't like hate for the church was uncommon. But he can't say it didn't bother none. Even if he stopped the speak of scripture around her after that.
His eyes open as the paint is taken from him. He can feel it's all been done, good and proper is it. It feels better. He feels whole. His gaze falls on her face as she confesses to him. There's a sort of wonder there in him. There's a clench all upon his pusher.
She wants to attend Carnival with him again.
There's not but the faint 'woosh' of breath leaving him. Gone all to wind-ing is he by such a thing. It means a lot. More than he could say if he could say anything. He feels all out of control of himself like this, like somehow they made him fragile and these little things... they are so much.
A day he does that again would be a day he ain't an avox no more. He's not sure if that'll come or not. But she has faith it will and it makes him wish so badly right then that there was being anything what he could do to express. His head bows to her and her graciousness.
no subject
He remembers her response to his faith. He remembers who scathing she was to hear of it, how much the loathing poured that he'd wondered why she'd want to be near him at all when it was all he knew to be. It hadn't be surprising or none, ain't like hate for the church was uncommon. But he can't say it didn't bother none. Even if he stopped the speak of scripture around her after that.
His eyes open as the paint is taken from him. He can feel it's all been done, good and proper is it. It feels better. He feels whole. His gaze falls on her face as she confesses to him. There's a sort of wonder there in him. There's a clench all upon his pusher.
She wants to attend Carnival with him again.
There's not but the faint 'woosh' of breath leaving him. Gone all to wind-ing is he by such a thing. It means a lot. More than he could say if he could say anything. He feels all out of control of himself like this, like somehow they made him fragile and these little things... they are so much.
A day he does that again would be a day he ain't an avox no more. He's not sure if that'll come or not. But she has faith it will and it makes him wish so badly right then that there was being anything what he could do to express. His head bows to her and her graciousness.