[ the first thing that rises in his mind is how he knows that isn't possible. he won't end up happy no matter what ends up coming out of all of this, and for all that he can offer comforting words to ease her worries, he knows he's an asshole for the sheer fact that he sees words like that as just bullshit when it comes to himself.
there's no chance here. not when he'd already lost everything long ago, not when he doesn't know the first thing about being happy. even here, when he's given a chance to make a change, he's decided that his past is too fucked up to even touch, that it's much more worth giving whatever little he has to saving someone else, someone more deserving — someone like clara.
but then her fingers graze to his cheek, a soft touch that slides to his nose, his lips. the latter parts almost wanting to press a kiss to them, exhaling the heat of his breath before she redirects her touch to his neck. his eyes peer up to her then, the realization lingering through this mind of what he's come to want, of the selfish inkling that's threatening to burst in his chest.
all it takes is a touch and he can feel her peeling at his skin, layer by layer, like he can't hide from it, like her gaze can see past every pore and he swallows, his fingers back on her hip, holding her gently, wanting to hold her closer. ]
When you look in my eyes — [ his voice is quiet, a hushed whisper. ] What do you see?
[ he's asked someone before, the answer reminding him that he's in the wrong skin, the wrong life, that he'll have to hand it all back, that everything he does is in exchange for someone else. but right now, the only answer he cares to hear is hers. ]
no subject
there's no chance here. not when he'd already lost everything long ago, not when he doesn't know the first thing about being happy. even here, when he's given a chance to make a change, he's decided that his past is too fucked up to even touch, that it's much more worth giving whatever little he has to saving someone else, someone more deserving — someone like clara.
but then her fingers graze to his cheek, a soft touch that slides to his nose, his lips. the latter parts almost wanting to press a kiss to them, exhaling the heat of his breath before she redirects her touch to his neck. his eyes peer up to her then, the realization lingering through this mind of what he's come to want, of the selfish inkling that's threatening to burst in his chest.
all it takes is a touch and he can feel her peeling at his skin, layer by layer, like he can't hide from it, like her gaze can see past every pore and he swallows, his fingers back on her hip, holding her gently, wanting to hold her closer. ]
When you look in my eyes — [ his voice is quiet, a hushed whisper. ] What do you see?
[ he's asked someone before, the answer reminding him that he's in the wrong skin, the wrong life, that he'll have to hand it all back, that everything he does is in exchange for someone else. but right now, the only answer he cares to hear is hers. ]