YAN-PARA au master post

[earthflames]

WHAT IT SAYS ON THE BOX.

Comments

[erank]

[He... He's what? He has half a mind to try and get up and go fix whatever's coming apart, but by the time Diarmuid scrambles back onto the bed, he's sat himself the fuck down and settled in to make sure he doesn't bleed too much.

Cu can't say he's entirely pleased to have Diarmuid up in his space all of a sudden, but he figures shoving him off wouldn't have the greatest of outcomes.]

...I don't see anything?

[Maybe he means that metaphorically?]

[beautymark]

...It's not real?

[He's completely baffled, staring at the floor like there's a monster there. It's still a gaping crack in his eyes, descending into nothingness. The world is still shaking and dust is crumbling from the ceiling. His head aches and his skin feels like it's burning and everything is just off.

But Cu says he doesn't see it. So it's probably fake. But that doesn't mean he can just turn it off, and the sensation of experiencing terrifying things and knowing he isn't really experiencing them ads up to overwhelming frustration. But all he can do about that is cry harder and pray that it will stop soon.]

Then why does it hurt so much?

[erank]

I-I...I don't know, but whatever it is, uh.

[He's not sure what to say, really - he can't see whatever Diarmuid's seeing, and he's pretty sure he can't make it go away]

It shouldn't be able to hurt you...

[beautymark]

It does!

[If he could, he'd shrink to the size of a marble. But he can't, so instead he just wedges himself further into the corner, in the tiniest ball he can pull off. His voice is shaky and tiny and he looks nothing like the kind of person who can slaughter a neighborhood in cold blood.]

I'm sorry. I'll be good, so it can stop...

[erank]

[Ooooohhhhh god what do?????]

You don't have to be sorry for anything, you know.

[beautymark]

[That doesn't compute. He's always scared and always guilty, so his response is just to look up with a wide-eyed, baffled expression.]

[erank]

I mean you should probably be sorry for lying or fucking stabbing me, but you didn't do anything just now, so, uh--

[beautymark]

I am sorry. I think. I'm not sure.

[He's not really sure of anything, to be quite honest. But if he just focuses on Cu's face the rest of the room stops tearing itself apart, so that's what he does.

At least until the door suddenly bursts open to the tune of several policemen.]