For several breaths, and she wasn't sure how many exactly, she didn't even say anything, simply sifting through the variety of thoughts like there was a physical pile of them. Most of which had never seen the light of day, wrapped up tightly and hidden in a place where she hoped no one would find them.
She wasn't proud of the present moment. Of what she looked like in it. Would have been easier, perhaps, to continue her little charade. Having a real conversation felt... terrifying. Exhausting. It left her remarkably exposed. But maybe there was nothing she could have done. She'd been the one who started it, regardless of Astarion's role in it.
He was not the one to blame, but did she really think that or had she just developed the poor habit of assuming all responsibility had to be hers?
The way she held the journal to her tightened, claws threatening the integrity of its exterior.
He didn't need to say any of that. Some of it she didn't even agree with. It was hard to hear. Hard to listen to. Hard to not immediately reject all of it. She hated the praise for what she felt wasn't really her doing at all. The worst part was that whenever she spoke, she couldn't just take it back.
He would always know. He would look at her and would always remember. So in effect, she'd already ruined that.]
You... don't need to reassure me. [She replied gently, as kindly as she could, considerably worn down to the point where she wouldn't outright refuse.] I think I've stayed here long enough. Taken your time long enough. But—
[But she appreciated it. She knew she did. Where she ordinarily would have said it, she felt like she couldn't force the words out. Embarrassment, perhaps.]
Uhm. [Lifting a hand and drawing a claw over her bottom lip in thought, she struggled with what to say. An apology would have been the best thing to give, but she was too humiliated to do that, too.] You said before that you haven't eaten for days. Everyone needs you. Please take advantage of your resources. Before you go to Moonrise.
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Date: 2023-12-16 01:32 pm (UTC)For several breaths, and she wasn't sure how many exactly, she didn't even say anything, simply sifting through the variety of thoughts like there was a physical pile of them. Most of which had never seen the light of day, wrapped up tightly and hidden in a place where she hoped no one would find them.
She wasn't proud of the present moment. Of what she looked like in it. Would have been easier, perhaps, to continue her little charade. Having a real conversation felt... terrifying. Exhausting. It left her remarkably exposed. But maybe there was nothing she could have done. She'd been the one who started it, regardless of Astarion's role in it.
He was not the one to blame, but did she really think that or had she just developed the poor habit of assuming all responsibility had to be hers?
The way she held the journal to her tightened, claws threatening the integrity of its exterior.
He didn't need to say any of that. Some of it she didn't even agree with. It was hard to hear. Hard to listen to. Hard to not immediately reject all of it. She hated the praise for what she felt wasn't really her doing at all. The worst part was that whenever she spoke, she couldn't just take it back.
He would always know. He would look at her and would always remember. So in effect, she'd already ruined that.]
You... don't need to reassure me. [She replied gently, as kindly as she could, considerably worn down to the point where she wouldn't outright refuse.] I think I've stayed here long enough. Taken your time long enough. But—
[But she appreciated it. She knew she did. Where she ordinarily would have said it, she felt like she couldn't force the words out. Embarrassment, perhaps.]
Uhm. [Lifting a hand and drawing a claw over her bottom lip in thought, she struggled with what to say. An apology would have been the best thing to give, but she was too humiliated to do that, too.] You said before that you haven't eaten for days. Everyone needs you. Please take advantage of your resources. Before you go to Moonrise.