[ ah, he should be used to his own words coming back to haunt him by now, and yet...above and beyond. he huffs a laugh in lieu of any other response he could make, rusty like knives caught jagged against his throat. once, there had been nothing, nothing in all the world he would have considered above and beyond for this man; he would have climbed any mountain, thrown himself into any battle, broken the brittle bones of whatever bonds remained of his birthplace if diluc had ever so much as asked without hesitation or expectation. they'd both known it surely, that whatever air they breathed, victories they'd bleed, prices they'd pay would be shared between them as one life split in two - everything except the dirty little secrets kaeya kept so carefully hidden away, the very essence of his existence.
it could never have worked. he'd known it would only ever end in disaster the moment that vibrant spark held out his hand to a coiled viper lurking in the vineyard on a rainy night. even so, it still stings to face how far they've fallen, that a moment of respite on a far too uncomfortable couch for someone so sick he can barely walk could be considered above and beyond. ]
Clearly she does, if you're out wandering the night delirious with fever. [ what goes unspoken, what he swallows down, is that it had never been adelinde who had dragged diluc out of the rain and wind when he'd stubbornly insisted on flaking every little piece of himself off bit by bit in a futile hope to squeeze into the mold of his father's making. he doesn't think about a child-sized vision tucked away in a drawer, four years of staring at the scarlet glow within, waiting for it to fade, waiting for himself to fade with it. had diluc picked up this habit back then too, uncaring and unnoticing of whatever fever raged through him in the heat of the fires of vengeance? ] Unless your plan was to weaken enemy forces by coughing on them, I don't know what you were hoping to accomplish in this state.
[ diluc's forehead is hot, hot, hot against the palm of his hand - but it's the downturn of his eyes, the lean of his neck, the sway of his body just a fraction closer that sends a wave of heat coursing through his veins. it's a pale mockery of the intimacy they'd once shared, the last echo of the dying gasp of a corpse long since rotted...and yet, and yet. there had been a time once when he'd never known the warmth of the sun, of a smile, of a hand tight within his - when he'd never known he was cold all the way through because he'd never known there could be anything else but cold. he'd felt that encompassing numbness again that torrential night and the years that followed, a shell of ice encroaching around his heart to guard against any attempts to burn, forgetting what fire felt like at all beyond a sick scorching pain.
barbara had told him a story once, some church parable about a bird trapped in eternal night flying for a brief moment into a house filled with light and laughter before out the window into darkness again, left with nothing but the remnant of a memory of brilliant warmth. he isn't sure what lesson he's supposed to take away from the tale, but he suddenly feels a pang of sympathy for that tiny lost soul clinging onto a scrap of borrowed light, knowing it'll never see it again, questioning if it had ever been real to begin with. would it have been better to have never encountered that window into another life to begin with, to be forever blind but ignorant to the blindness?
he drops his hand from diluc's forehead, takes one step back and then another. no. best to leave any such thing forgotten. cryo and pyro are fundementally incompatible after all, and one of those elements has an overwhelming advantage over the other. attempting to close the distance would accomplish naught but melting him away until there's nothing left. ]
From the look of it, I highly doubt you can manage even the steps to my bedroom - but feel free to prove me wrong, Master Diluc. I could always use a laugh.
no subject
it could never have worked. he'd known it would only ever end in disaster the moment that vibrant spark held out his hand to a coiled viper lurking in the vineyard on a rainy night. even so, it still stings to face how far they've fallen, that a moment of respite on a far too uncomfortable couch for someone so sick he can barely walk could be considered above and beyond. ]
Clearly she does, if you're out wandering the night delirious with fever. [ what goes unspoken, what he swallows down, is that it had never been adelinde who had dragged diluc out of the rain and wind when he'd stubbornly insisted on flaking every little piece of himself off bit by bit in a futile hope to squeeze into the mold of his father's making. he doesn't think about a child-sized vision tucked away in a drawer, four years of staring at the scarlet glow within, waiting for it to fade, waiting for himself to fade with it. had diluc picked up this habit back then too, uncaring and unnoticing of whatever fever raged through him in the heat of the fires of vengeance? ] Unless your plan was to weaken enemy forces by coughing on them, I don't know what you were hoping to accomplish in this state.
[ diluc's forehead is hot, hot, hot against the palm of his hand - but it's the downturn of his eyes, the lean of his neck, the sway of his body just a fraction closer that sends a wave of heat coursing through his veins. it's a pale mockery of the intimacy they'd once shared, the last echo of the dying gasp of a corpse long since rotted...and yet, and yet. there had been a time once when he'd never known the warmth of the sun, of a smile, of a hand tight within his - when he'd never known he was cold all the way through because he'd never known there could be anything else but cold. he'd felt that encompassing numbness again that torrential night and the years that followed, a shell of ice encroaching around his heart to guard against any attempts to burn, forgetting what fire felt like at all beyond a sick scorching pain.
barbara had told him a story once, some church parable about a bird trapped in eternal night flying for a brief moment into a house filled with light and laughter before out the window into darkness again, left with nothing but the remnant of a memory of brilliant warmth. he isn't sure what lesson he's supposed to take away from the tale, but he suddenly feels a pang of sympathy for that tiny lost soul clinging onto a scrap of borrowed light, knowing it'll never see it again, questioning if it had ever been real to begin with. would it have been better to have never encountered that window into another life to begin with, to be forever blind but ignorant to the blindness?
he drops his hand from diluc's forehead, takes one step back and then another. no. best to leave any such thing forgotten. cryo and pyro are fundementally incompatible after all, and one of those elements has an overwhelming advantage over the other. attempting to close the distance would accomplish naught but melting him away until there's nothing left. ]
From the look of it, I highly doubt you can manage even the steps to my bedroom - but feel free to prove me wrong, Master Diluc. I could always use a laugh.