[He would like to bask in it for a few eons, he thinks. Lahabrea's soul. Even though his mind is scattered and it is far, far, far too much, he can still appreciate its warmth, its fire, its tenderness.
That is, until begins to tug his own soul to the surface. After all, what is healthy coping but burying trauma deep inside hopefully for it to never surface again?
He can barely handle people touching his death scar, the physical proof of his most dire failure. And even though he is gentle, even though he is careful, even though he is full of love and adoration.
He can't.
All he can feel, all he can imagine is all the Light of the First tearing through him. Chunks of auracite trying to pull at his soul to bind him. And then that terrible moment where he had to give into both and felt the threads of his own soul unravel through his fingers. Of it being torn out of him.
Tears fill his eyes and cold, acidic fear begins to taint Lahabrea's fingers buried deep within him.]
Re: Day 296
That is, until begins to tug his own soul to the surface. After all, what is healthy coping but burying trauma deep inside hopefully for it to never surface again?
He can barely handle people touching his death scar, the physical proof of his most dire failure. And even though he is gentle, even though he is careful, even though he is full of love and adoration.
He can't.
All he can feel, all he can imagine is all the Light of the First tearing through him. Chunks of auracite trying to pull at his soul to bind him. And then that terrible moment where he had to give into both and felt the threads of his own soul unravel through his fingers. Of it being torn out of him.
Tears fill his eyes and cold, acidic fear begins to taint Lahabrea's fingers buried deep within him.]