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Amos Burton ([personal profile] tumang) wrote2018-04-27 12:12 pm

[Reverie] Open inbox

INBOX text / audio / video / action 'You must think I'm pretty stupid, don't you?' code credit
contorta: (—70)

[personal profile] contorta 2018-06-25 07:44 pm (UTC)(link)
( prax barely realises that for a moment, amos might've pulled him off, seemed like he was about it. he barely realises because his fear and sense of loss are too encompassing for him to focus on that kind of thing. it's too much. the thought that mei might've died never knowing that he tried, that she might've been turned into a hybrid, even as a hybrid, she's probably long dead now, that thought makes everything else seem insignificant.

he can't think about anything else right now. he doesn't know how to.

amos is still and strong, voice soft and his hands warm and prax lets himself fall against amos and trust amos to catch him, to hold him up. it wouldn't be so bad if amos didn't, either, but amos doesn't. )


I don't—

( he drags in a ragged breath. ) I don't know if I can. ( right now, he can't. )
contorta: (—76)

[personal profile] contorta 2018-06-26 12:59 pm (UTC)(link)
( it helps. it doesn't solve anything, but it helps a little to let it out. to give an outlet to the desperate fear that's been sitting in his chest, sinking its claws into his heart and his mind and pulling chunks of flesh from him. it doesn't make it go away, but it makes it — smaller. more manageable, maybe.

he doesn't feel judged with amos. amos knows he's felt almost relieved when he thought for sure that mei was dead. that he's a terrible father because he can't fix his little girl's illness, can't offer her the life she should have. amos knows, and amos is still here, holding him, letting him cry.

he doesn't know how long it is until amos speaks again. some time after prax's sobs have turned into hiccups have turned into quiet sniffles. his head hurts, but his chest feels lighter. )


Thank you. ( it's the only thing he can think to say. thank you for believing in him when he can't believe in himself. for thinking that he's stronger than he is. for holding him. for being there.

he can't bring himself to move away from amos just yet, even though he knows he should. )
contorta: (—71)

[personal profile] contorta 2018-06-28 02:57 pm (UTC)(link)
( prax stays there, leaning against amos, letting amos take most of his weight for a while longer. he's not sure how much time passes, really. his head feels strangely empty, his chest lighter now. like he's floating, maybe. the scientific part of his mind tells him that he's probably a little dehydrated, that he should drink something, get some rest.

he draws back eventually, slowly, not quite able to look amos in the eye but not ashamed of how slowly he detangles himself from amos, either. not trying to hide the way he rubs tear stains off his cheeks. )


I should - ( he clears his throat. ) Get some water.
contorta: (—70)

[personal profile] contorta 2018-06-28 07:17 pm (UTC)(link)
( prax doesn't go far. he stays in amos' orbit because now more than ever, amos really does feel like his gravity, the one thing keeping him stable, keeping him centred.

he nods, slowly. )
With Alex and Naomi. They - ( he glances down. tries for a smile, though it's mostly a grimace. ) They figured I shouldn't hear about it on the network.
contorta: (—75)

[personal profile] contorta 2018-06-28 08:59 pm (UTC)(link)
That's not -

( prax shakes his head, drifting a little closer to amos again, setting a hand on amos' upper arm. )

I'm glad you're here now.
contorta: (—31)

[personal profile] contorta 2018-07-11 10:23 am (UTC)(link)
( softly: )

Thank you.