[ Even after all his time spent here, a part of him is still surprised every time he realizes some people here want to protect him. Too accustomed to being the protector, or the aggressor, or both, it's a strange sensation whenever he's reminded that some people here would waste their energy on trying to keep him safe.
His chest prickles, brief but sharp, the sensation shared with Dextera. ]
... you don't need to.
[ But ultimately, he isn't something worth protecting. Gen properly turns to face Dextera, shoulders squared and hands in pockets ]
You promised you'd stay with that side -- and I'm serious about this too, you know. I can't stand the thought that you want to save the place I'm from. I don't want to lose. [ He 'speaks' evenly enough, but his words are soft and his gaze is directed at the ground between them. ] We are enemies, even if you want to pretend we aren't.
... you still okay with seeing me, even knowing that?
[ He doesn't dare hope Dextera will answer with the 'yes' that he knows is a terribly tall order. But even if he isn't conscious of it, his quiet yearning must be palpable for Dextera. ]
[ truthfully, it’s like he doesn’t hear gen’s protests. he was just waiting for the place to affirm his own feelings; it’s the same sensation that set once observed in dextera, like claws sinking in to hold onto something he fears might be taken away from him.
he refuses to listen to gen’s reasonable assessment of their respective places, because that would mean considering a different possibility than the one he wants to believe in.
thus, his firm yes. the word itself is given through communion as if it’s iron-clad, locking the two of them together across whatever physical distance might separate them. it smooths over the little nicks and cracks in the feelings that make up dextera’s fundamental motivations, allowing him to look so certain for nothing but the right reasons. he believes it himself. ]
[ It's enough to make him feel like his heart's stopped for a moment.
Not just Dextera's words -- those alone enough to make his lungs squeeze tight, his breath catching in his throat -- but the way he says them. The promptness. The certainty. 'I won't lose you,' Dextera says, and it feels a bit like someone's struck him across the head with a hammer, given how violently his thoughts go blank.
Though Gen says nothing for a moment, only looking at Dextera in silence, it must be painfully obvious that he's struggling to fight back an overwhelming deluge of tangled emotions. Shock, confusion, disbelief. But more than any of those --
a violently spiraling sense of infatuation. (Longing and possessive.) ]
That's ... [ It slips out loud first, before he tries to gather himself. Gen swallows thickly as he thoughtlessly brings his free hand up to his face; his reflexively attempt to hide his expression that way is rather undermined by the visible way his canine ears flatten back for a moment, clearly overwhelmed. ] S'that right. [ He closes his eyes as he exhales slowly, trying to will his thundering pulse calm. ] You know that's easier said than done.
[ But there's no real bite to that petulant response. It's hard to even muster his usual level of doubt -- not when Dextera had sounded so certain. 'I won't lose you.' How the hell can he bring himself to argue with that, even if he knows on a rational level that he should?
Gen exhales hoarsely once more before pulling away his hand, willing himself to keep a straight face. But maybe it doesn't matter much if he can't quite accomplish it -- not when he instead reaches forward to snag his fingers into Dextera's sleeve, tugging him just a little closer. ]
... alright. [ He'll believe it. He'll permit himself to fully believe what Dextera says. ] And you? Seems unfair if you're the only one trying. What do you want.
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His chest prickles, brief but sharp, the sensation shared with Dextera. ]
... you don't need to.
[ But ultimately, he isn't something worth protecting. Gen properly turns to face Dextera, shoulders squared and hands in pockets ]
You promised you'd stay with that side -- and I'm serious about this too, you know. I can't stand the thought that you want to save the place I'm from. I don't want to lose. [ He 'speaks' evenly enough, but his words are soft and his gaze is directed at the ground between them. ] We are enemies, even if you want to pretend we aren't.
... you still okay with seeing me, even knowing that?
[ He doesn't dare hope Dextera will answer with the 'yes' that he knows is a terribly tall order. But even if he isn't conscious of it, his quiet yearning must be palpable for Dextera. ]
no subject
[ truthfully, it’s like he doesn’t hear gen’s protests. he was just waiting for the place to affirm his own feelings; it’s the same sensation that set once observed in dextera, like claws sinking in to hold onto something he fears might be taken away from him.
he refuses to listen to gen’s reasonable assessment of their respective places, because that would mean considering a different possibility than the one he wants to believe in.
thus, his firm yes. the word itself is given through communion as if it’s iron-clad, locking the two of them together across whatever physical distance might separate them. it smooths over the little nicks and cracks in the feelings that make up dextera’s fundamental motivations, allowing him to look so certain for nothing but the right reasons. he believes it himself. ]
I won’t lose you. Not to this.
no subject
Not just Dextera's words -- those alone enough to make his lungs squeeze tight, his breath catching in his throat -- but the way he says them. The promptness. The certainty. 'I won't lose you,' Dextera says, and it feels a bit like someone's struck him across the head with a hammer, given how violently his thoughts go blank.
Though Gen says nothing for a moment, only looking at Dextera in silence, it must be painfully obvious that he's struggling to fight back an overwhelming deluge of tangled emotions. Shock, confusion, disbelief. But more than any of those --
a violently spiraling sense of infatuation. (Longing and possessive.) ]
That's ... [ It slips out loud first, before he tries to gather himself. Gen swallows thickly as he thoughtlessly brings his free hand up to his face; his reflexively attempt to hide his expression that way is rather undermined by the visible way his canine ears flatten back for a moment, clearly overwhelmed. ] S'that right. [ He closes his eyes as he exhales slowly, trying to will his thundering pulse calm. ] You know that's easier said than done.
[ But there's no real bite to that petulant response. It's hard to even muster his usual level of doubt -- not when Dextera had sounded so certain. 'I won't lose you.' How the hell can he bring himself to argue with that, even if he knows on a rational level that he should?
Gen exhales hoarsely once more before pulling away his hand, willing himself to keep a straight face. But maybe it doesn't matter much if he can't quite accomplish it -- not when he instead reaches forward to snag his fingers into Dextera's sleeve, tugging him just a little closer. ]
... alright. [ He'll believe it. He'll permit himself to fully believe what Dextera says. ] And you? Seems unfair if you're the only one trying. What do you want.