It was, in a way, excruciating, to be held like this, the comfort and the proximity, the way Wolfwood's chin moved, and then the warmth of his cheek, the faint sensation of the stubble, all, all of them real, and gifted to him without the threat that it would be just snatched away - while at the same time the words, which he could appreciate, he could not take, not... not in the way that were meant. Not the underlying assumption. And the rest...
You've got people who love you an' want you to be happy. so simple and honest, and Vash knew exactly how true it was, but they- He did not want them to be wrong, but they were.
"I don't." Vash's voice was hoarse, even as the cheek that Wolfwood rested his own against was dry. "I don't deserve it." Not to be happy. Not even to indulge his hurt enough to cry over it. "I am... sorry. That I have to disappoint. But I don't deserve any of it. The-- everyone, everything here. All the fear, all the suffering. All who died in the crash, and even those who couldn't survive without the plants. It's partly my fault. I made it possible."
Millions upon millions of lives lost. And more, all around them.
"How can - how can anyone with that deserve to be happy?" A deep, shaky breath, and his voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm... sorry. It...
"At least if more people are all right, the weight lifts, a little."
'You'll be all right' really just...
He probably should have just taken it. Accepted it. He could see that in retrospect, but everything had him so shaken, he couldn't take one more thing. He needed to get better, again.
They probably should get going again, too. But the thought of stepping back and catching even a glance of Wolfwood's face was more than he could bear right now. He was going to. In just a little bit.
he won't. he won't make him promise anything ever.
You've got people who love you an' want you to be happy. so simple and honest, and Vash knew exactly how true it was, but they- He did not want them to be wrong, but they were.
"I don't." Vash's voice was hoarse, even as the cheek that Wolfwood rested his own against was dry. "I don't deserve it." Not to be happy. Not even to indulge his hurt enough to cry over it. "I am... sorry. That I have to disappoint. But I don't deserve any of it. The-- everyone, everything here. All the fear, all the suffering. All who died in the crash, and even those who couldn't survive without the plants. It's partly my fault. I made it possible."
Millions upon millions of lives lost. And more, all around them.
"How can - how can anyone with that deserve to be happy?" A deep, shaky breath, and his voice dropped to barely above a whisper. "I'm sorry. I'm... sorry. It...
"At least if more people are all right, the weight lifts, a little."
'You'll be all right' really just...
He probably should have just taken it. Accepted it. He could see that in retrospect, but everything had him so shaken, he couldn't take one more thing. He needed to get better, again.
They probably should get going again, too. But the thought of stepping back and catching even a glance of Wolfwood's face was more than he could bear right now. He was going to. In just a little bit.