"Please don't-" Scar's voice broke as he begged, trying to cut her off before she could say it. He shrank into himself, burying his face in his hand. He didn't want to stand up anymore. Some part of him that wasn't caught up in defensive delusion had been waiting for the inevitable words. He didn't want them. He didn't want them.
The anger tried its damnedest to return. Anything to block this wretched, sickening sensation that sapped his strength and left him powerless to the reality of what had just happened. This was what he got, for letting her so close. He felt as if he was losing a piece of himself. It was awful, hollow, and the only thing left when his anger was too weak to sustain him.
He had just yelled at her until she cried. And then she had told him that she loved him.
His fingers tangled in his hair, now, pulling tight. But this was why it could never work. Because it was him. It was always him, and he hated himself for it.
Scar tried to recall the source of this. She had kept the truth from him. She was trying to run away from everything. Take responsibility for nothing.
But she hadn't asked for any of this. It wasn't her fault that she had been forced to live. And now she tried so hard...
No. That kind of thinking was what got him into this in the first place.
He curled into himself further the longer he stood there, shaking and holding onto himself. He couldn't even say how long it was, if she was even still there. It was a mess of circles that had no answer, no way forward. This was exactly what he had done to his brother, and the conclusion he had reached about those regrets was too real and too terrifying to apply, right now.
Miriam, still standing by Scar's feet, mewed quietly up at him, and the small familiar sound was enough. A choked sob finally escaped Scar's throat, but he still stood, frozen and shaking and with no way forward or backward.
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The anger tried its damnedest to return. Anything to block this wretched, sickening sensation that sapped his strength and left him powerless to the reality of what had just happened. This was what he got, for letting her so close. He felt as if he was losing a piece of himself. It was awful, hollow, and the only thing left when his anger was too weak to sustain him.
He had just yelled at her until she cried. And then she had told him that she loved him.
His fingers tangled in his hair, now, pulling tight. But this was why it could never work. Because it was him. It was always him, and he hated himself for it.
Scar tried to recall the source of this. She had kept the truth from him. She was trying to run away from everything. Take responsibility for nothing.
But she hadn't asked for any of this. It wasn't her fault that she had been forced to live. And now she tried so hard...
No. That kind of thinking was what got him into this in the first place.
He curled into himself further the longer he stood there, shaking and holding onto himself. He couldn't even say how long it was, if she was even still there. It was a mess of circles that had no answer, no way forward. This was exactly what he had done to his brother, and the conclusion he had reached about those regrets was too real and too terrifying to apply, right now.
Miriam, still standing by Scar's feet, mewed quietly up at him, and the small familiar sound was enough. A choked sob finally escaped Scar's throat, but he still stood, frozen and shaking and with no way forward or backward.