[ The sudden lift, the reminder of the ring around her neck, has her pausing. The chain is from the gift he had given her, a soft silver thread of something that unifies them as surely as the ring does, taken from the lance and slid through it to tie it around her neck, like a brand, twined with a golden chain to keep it strong and safe. It's not just a reminder of the fact that Gilgamesh said that he would protect her, of course, it's a little more than that. It's because Dorian had said it made sense to have the protection, in part, but it's also to remind her of the fact that trust, even one earned, can sometimes hurt, and be sharp.
His hand is on the ring and she thinks, for a minute, that she might have stopped breathing. She doesn't want to consider it, she doesn't want him to pay attention to it, to make reference to it. If she can make it she wants him to ignore it, ignore the meaning, pretend that nothing has happened and nothing is important in the fact that it's around her neck. It's there because it's easy, she tells herself, even when she knows it's a lie. The ring means a thousand different things and she has no idea where to start when it comes to expressing that.
As Gilgamesh shifts her hand moves; it's a mirror, his hand in her hair as her hand finds his, stroking along it and breathing out a little, trying to swallow back the onset of too much. Her love fr her friends is so intense it might well be suffocating and this, even knowing what Gilgamesh is, is no different. He was friend first, after all. ]
You're not the only one that's - that's done bad things. I'm not going to say it's okay, but I understand.
[ She has done things, too. Wiped memories, broken into places, hurt people, copied their faces to crawl around and find information, killed to protect herself and her friends. None of it is good, but she did it for a good reason; does that make it better? It's a question she doesn't want to consider but she has to. ]
You could live with us, though. Alongside us. You don't have to be alone.
[ He has Dorian, after all, and her head turns, drawing him tighter, her heart bleeding for what she thinks she sees. ]
no subject
His hand is on the ring and she thinks, for a minute, that she might have stopped breathing. She doesn't want to consider it, she doesn't want him to pay attention to it, to make reference to it. If she can make it she wants him to ignore it, ignore the meaning, pretend that nothing has happened and nothing is important in the fact that it's around her neck. It's there because it's easy, she tells herself, even when she knows it's a lie. The ring means a thousand different things and she has no idea where to start when it comes to expressing that.
As Gilgamesh shifts her hand moves; it's a mirror, his hand in her hair as her hand finds his, stroking along it and breathing out a little, trying to swallow back the onset of too much. Her love fr her friends is so intense it might well be suffocating and this, even knowing what Gilgamesh is, is no different. He was friend first, after all. ]
You're not the only one that's - that's done bad things. I'm not going to say it's okay, but I understand.
[ She has done things, too. Wiped memories, broken into places, hurt people, copied their faces to crawl around and find information, killed to protect herself and her friends. None of it is good, but she did it for a good reason; does that make it better? It's a question she doesn't want to consider but she has to. ]
You could live with us, though. Alongside us. You don't have to be alone.
[ He has Dorian, after all, and her head turns, drawing him tighter, her heart bleeding for what she thinks she sees. ]