Open Post 002

[2020mod]

• Step one: start a thread in this post!
• Step two: specify who the thread is for (or open) in this post!
• Step three: make people reply to this post!
• AND THAT'S THE WAY YOU DO IT.


And don't forget, there's still the ooc discussion post! And nothing needs to be contained to this post! Create new logs to your heart's content! This AU is yours, so have at it!


musebox • rules • character list

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[dragony]

The crack in his voice is sharp reminder; the suffering she felt was his, years of his, and how fair was it to force him to carry the burden of her heart when he was already so saddled with the weight of his?

This time it's her hand combing through his hair, sweat-damp and stiff with grime, split-ends, but who cares about something like that? She lifts her head, her hands smoothing into flat palms against his back. She shifts in his arms. "You're here," she murmurs, quiet into the shell of his ear, calmer now. "You're here now. That's enough."

[crab]

No it's not, he wants to tell her. That's not enough at all. They both know he'll leave her again eventually. He'll hurt her and she'll hurt him, and the worst part about it all is it isn't something Karkat can control. The state of the world they live in is out of their hands; what they have now, however screwed up and painful, is the best either of them are able to do. It's not enough.

He doesn't say any of this, though. Merely shivers at the sensation of her fingers brushing against his scalp, her breath against his ear. Deprived of physical contact that wasn't pain for so long as he has been, the reaction he has to the simple touch and affection is almost overwhelming. He doesn't know how to react to it.

He lets out a sigh and pulls back from their embrace -- not by much, mind. Just enough that he is able to look her in the face again, take in the pallor of her face, the tears that cling to her lashes and glisten in streaks down her face, the pull of her brows and curve of her mouth, the shift in expressions. Refreshing everything he'd missed, recoloring his memory. For a while, that's all he does; look at her.

It's gentle and almost hesitant, when he finally leans in to press his lips to hers.

[dragony]

Even that small movement has her heart flickering in mild panic, the one hand tensing on his back. Is he leaving her, already? Is he rejecting her, finally? But he stops, and she freezes, uncertain of what to say or what she said that would cause this now. Her eye skims his face for some clue as to what he's thinking, but she's not an empath the same way he is; proximity isn't enough for her to sense even a fraction of his heart.

The confusion (anxiety fear trepidation) is plain on her face, spiking at movement once more. At contact she freezes for surprise—everything seems to happen so fast, so slow, it's hard to keep herself in the present—but the breath rushes out of her, the tension in her back and her shoulders easing, when she kisses back.

He really is there with her, isn't he? This isn't a dream.

But, she thinks, shifting on pins-and-needles legs and curling her fingers in his hair, that's no guarantee she won't wake up to an empty room, with no sign he'd ever been here in the first place.

No guarantee at all.