Date: 2020-09-06 05:25 am (UTC)
vapidus: (mom said it's MY turn)
From: [personal profile] vapidus
He can't because the door... is stuck... or something, this metaphor got away from me.

Vanitas kind of reflexively shoves back at Ven's shoving in kind - both jostle him and make him grit his teeth. "Fix what, Ventus?" He growls. They're so normal to him he's kind of unaware Ventus is talking about the current, evident, physical injuries, as opposed to The injury, the first and original and unignorable. "She can't do anything about this! Nothing can! Eraqus can't!"

It feels like sacrilege to say out loud, like the thin fragile thread of hope that maybe, just maybe, there was a way back has just snapped, but Vanitas is tired and angry and nothing's changed in six months and it doesn't seem like it will ever. Ventus's feelings are temporary, oxygen pumped down a line to an old diving suit and no control over if they decide to leave the pump. "Nice," Vanitas spits bitterly, and then the thought kind of peters out, going nowhere. "Right. Well this is me being nice, I'm warning you first." A principle also learnt in lessons. He starts trying to get up proper, breathing still gingerly thin. He needs to leave, the clock is ticking and ticking.
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