[ He sits quiet for her to speak, to say it all and it curls something in him he doesn't know what to make of it. Uncomfortable and displeased by it all, because it's a too familiar ache. A too familiar want.
He cannot afford it, he cannot have it, there's madness tinged and spun on the edges of it. The coping mechanism he'd developed under the torturer's hot metal, was his only saving grace. The sharp cut sections he separated himself into, the only way to endure that much pain day after day. ]
Then my mask has more to offer than the corpse does.
no subject
He cannot afford it, he cannot have it, there's madness tinged and spun on the edges of it. The coping mechanism he'd developed under the torturer's hot metal, was his only saving grace. The sharp cut sections he separated himself into, the only way to endure that much pain day after day. ]
Then my mask has more to offer than the corpse does.