She took his words as a threat at first and cringed . I could kill you; that in response to admitting a deepset wish to stay at his side. It at first appeared that he was so lost in a storm of conflict that he felt the temptation to lash out at her and end his struggle, but Max had to wonder when she recognized the fear and frustration in his eyes. Not a threat, then. It was a warning.
She'd always figured that he would not seek to harm her without intending to, maybe in response to whatever he perceived to be betrayal, yet now his every move and sob testified to some doubt in his ability to stop himself should he feel an inkling to harm. If Albedo still entertained thoughts of her murder and doubted his self-control...
"What do you mean?"
The simple question sounded hard and demanding. With her knowlegde of his past too limited to assume a reason herself, Max could only think of all the time they'd spent in each other's presence, of every teasing jest and comforting touch passed between. If it meant nothing, and every moment spent holding her hand was cut with a barely suppressed urge to maim--she resented the pang in her chest at the thought of it.
She couldn't remember at what point she'd allowed herself to become so vulnerable to him. Like an idiot. And she felt like an idiot, standing there with her arms hanging uselessly at her sides, numb with the near-undeniable compulsion to reach out and sooth Albedo until he was calm again. But she could not afford that kind of trigger compassion, not just yet, no matter how inclined she was towards him.
The next words came out sounding thicker. "Is that what you think about in your free time? Hurting me?"
It couldn't be. Not after everything. Max tried to push the hand away from his mouth and force him to bear the truth of his terror. He couldn't hide from himself now that he'd already blurted so much, and as Max spoke she became angrier, her nails raking against the skin of his wrist as she fumbled under the pressure of what he'd said.
"Bullcrap. We've been around each other this long and nothing's happened! Why would you do it now? Are you trying to scare me off?"
no subject
She'd always figured that he would not seek to harm her without intending to, maybe in response to whatever he perceived to be betrayal, yet now his every move and sob testified to some doubt in his ability to stop himself should he feel an inkling to harm. If Albedo still entertained thoughts of her murder and doubted his self-control...
"What do you mean?"
The simple question sounded hard and demanding. With her knowlegde of his past too limited to assume a reason herself, Max could only think of all the time they'd spent in each other's presence, of every teasing jest and comforting touch passed between. If it meant nothing, and every moment spent holding her hand was cut with a barely suppressed urge to maim--she resented the pang in her chest at the thought of it.
She couldn't remember at what point she'd allowed herself to become so vulnerable to him. Like an idiot. And she felt like an idiot, standing there with her arms hanging uselessly at her sides, numb with the near-undeniable compulsion to reach out and sooth Albedo until he was calm again. But she could not afford that kind of trigger compassion, not just yet, no matter how inclined she was towards him.
The next words came out sounding thicker. "Is that what you think about in your free time? Hurting me?"
It couldn't be. Not after everything. Max tried to push the hand away from his mouth and force him to bear the truth of his terror. He couldn't hide from himself now that he'd already blurted so much, and as Max spoke she became angrier, her nails raking against the skin of his wrist as she fumbled under the pressure of what he'd said.
"Bullcrap. We've been around each other this long and nothing's happened! Why would you do it now? Are you trying to scare me off?"