[ noctis doesn’t need to hear it, no, but dextera feels like he should say it anyway—especially when noctis pulls him in like that, so comforting, just the two of them safe here together. he can’t be selfish. he can’t hide himself away when noctis has already exposed his pain, no matter how much he wants to.
he wishes he could be someone else, someone worthy of having a friend like noctis, but that’s not who he is. ]
…
[ he takes a long, deep breath—almost shuddering, with the beat of his heart—and pulls back, just enough to slowly sign out his explanation. these signs, he’s practiced in secret, without stringing the lessons together to make it obvious what he wanted to learn. he shows himself in front of the mirror, sometimes, and hears the archangel’s voice with the movement of his hands, as the magic of the town translates the signs for him.
it’s not a long or complicated story. just a painful one. ]
no subject
he wishes he could be someone else, someone worthy of having a friend like noctis, but that’s not who he is. ]
…
[ he takes a long, deep breath—almost shuddering, with the beat of his heart—and pulls back, just enough to slowly sign out his explanation. these signs, he’s practiced in secret, without stringing the lessons together to make it obvious what he wanted to learn. he shows himself in front of the mirror, sometimes, and hears the archangel’s voice with the movement of his hands, as the magic of the town translates the signs for him.
it’s not a long or complicated story. just a painful one. ]
I killed the world.