[As he winds a corner of the blanket loosely round his wrist. There is a little unfinished business.]
I've seen too many people fuck themselves up over somebody who wasn't worth the time. Don't ever hurt yourself over me. [Other corner, other wrist. Hm.] However much you hate me.
[He hasn't been obedient at all this evening, but he stops long enough to loop the length of cloth between his hands around her shoulders. It's the loosest of holds - she could duck under or pull back and it would come undone. Or she could stay and let him draw her down to the bed with the blankets not between but around them, his arms around her.]
She gives him a sullen-eyed look, but she doesn't fight him to pull free. And it may be slow, but she sinks into his shoulder. It's not relaxed, in the slightest. She's aware of being too still compared to him.]
[It's not a stillness that unsettles Chase - he has too many dead friends in this place - but he'd be blind not to notice her reticence. His hands, settled on her arms, are careful not to try to rub warmth into her skin.]
Think one day we'll be able to get to this point without making each other feel like crap first?
Sometimes I wonder what I even look like to you. [There's that quiet resignation she hears more and more from him now, even when his arms are settled around her waist and his eyes closed, head tilted to hers.] I haven't enjoyed it for a long time, Karlinka.
[He enjoys sport, but she's been playing against herself. He'll exploit people's vulnerabilities when it's necessary, with a hunting-bird's eye for picking them out. But it's not enjoyment.]
[It was meant to be tiresome. She's been trying to keep him out if not drive him away for a long time now, although this is still said whilst some small amount of relaxation ekes out of her, cold hands curling around his arms hesitantly.]
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or steps leading into the sea
[If that helps.]
I was thinking about going to bed.
[And keeping you on the far side of them, is that implied yet? She thinks it is.]
or steps leading into the sea
[As he winds a corner of the blanket loosely round his wrist. There is a little unfinished business.]
I've seen too many people fuck themselves up over somebody who wasn't worth the time. Don't ever hurt yourself over me. [Other corner, other wrist. Hm.] However much you hate me.
or steps leading into the sea
[Because it hurts already.]
or steps leading into the sea
or steps leading into the sea
or steps leading into the sea
Think one day we'll be able to get to this point without making each other feel like crap first?
or steps leading into the sea
[They wouldn't be talking at all if they were just fucking like rational adults.]
You enjoy it too much.
[She's only being half facetious with her chin digging in to his shoulder.]
or steps leading into the sea
[He enjoys sport, but she's been playing against herself. He'll exploit people's vulnerabilities when it's necessary, with a hunting-bird's eye for picking them out. But it's not enjoyment.]
It's getting tired.
or steps leading into the sea
[It was meant to be tiresome. She's been trying to keep him out if not drive him away for a long time now, although this is still said whilst some small amount of relaxation ekes out of her, cold hands curling around his arms hesitantly.]
or steps leading into the sea