[ Normally, Claude loves digging up secrets. Knowledge has always been one of his greatest assets, and the more he knows, the better he can plan.
But this, he wishes he could unknow. Wishes that he could remove the loneliness and the rejection from his chest. That he might forget how similar the icy feeling of frost rendering fingers numb is to the sensation of an assassin slipping into his bedroom at night. He doesn't want this bond or this connection; the shared history of a loved staring you in the eye and wishing you dead.
He doesn't want to feel anything toward Sylvain, if it means being seen in return.
He shakes his wrists free so that he can stand up, head and heart racing as he tries to parse the man in front of him, because his instincts tell him to get out of this situation—always as slippery as a fish—except the illusion tells him that his confidante is right here.
... Except that he has no refuge, not really. Not in any person or place other than himself. He's always made sure of that. ]
You— [ He needs- a plan. A way to get out of this. ] You drank my blood. Those weren't just Halloween costumes.
no subject
But this, he wishes he could unknow. Wishes that he could remove the loneliness and the rejection from his chest. That he might forget how similar the icy feeling of frost rendering fingers numb is to the sensation of an assassin slipping into his bedroom at night. He doesn't want this bond or this connection; the shared history of a loved staring you in the eye and wishing you dead.
He doesn't want to feel anything toward Sylvain, if it means being seen in return.
He shakes his wrists free so that he can stand up, head and heart racing as he tries to parse the man in front of him, because his instincts tell him to get out of this situation—always as slippery as a fish—except the illusion tells him that his confidante is right here.
... Except that he has no refuge, not really. Not in any person or place other than himself. He's always made sure of that. ]
You— [ He needs- a plan. A way to get out of this. ] You drank my blood. Those weren't just Halloween costumes.
[ ... That's one way to do it. ]