[ Apollo wants to protest but he can't; summoning the energy to pretend otherwise is just too much. After three long years of grief in his own world - and a guilty six months here in this one - he feels hollowed out by the conversation he's shared with Kylo so far. Something - something heavy and awful and poisonous - has lived too long in the pit of his chest without seeing the light of day. Bringing it all out to the light has been exhausting. ]
Maybe. It doesn't make sense and I don't understand but you're right. I do hate it.
[ And he wouldn't wish this on anyone, ever. And it feels awful, confessing all this anger and loss while Midnighter - the other Midnighter in his life - sleeps so peacefully beside him. ]
I'm seeing a version of him here, in this world. Things are good. I gave him your poetry book, we're reading it together.
no subject
Maybe. It doesn't make sense and I don't understand but you're right. I do hate it.
[ And he wouldn't wish this on anyone, ever. And it feels awful, confessing all this anger and loss while Midnighter - the other Midnighter in his life - sleeps so peacefully beside him. ]
I'm seeing a version of him here, in this world. Things are good. I gave him your poetry book, we're reading it together.