[At his breath, Tifa gently runs her fingers through his hair, giving the base of his ears a light scratch in that exact way that she knows helps to relax him before she's urging him to straighten a little.
And there's an unsettling feeling that swirls in the pit of her stomach.]
[They have been through this so many times before that she wouldn't have even let him protest to it, so she is already combing his hair away from his neck by the time he moves to sit up.
And as soon as she sees it, there's a ripple of heat through the room as her dread only sinks in further.
There, on the nape of his neck, almost hidden beneath his hairline, is a mark. A bruise where the skin has blackened.]
... There's something here.
[Her fingers will graze along the line of it, never quite touching it... too scared to touch it for fear that it will bring him pain or only make it worse.]
[He stiffens at her confirmation, thoughts spinning through his mind at the implications.]
...No—
[And now he's reaching back to touch it for himself, fingertips brushing over the bruise. Only then does he twitch at the cold sensation, dread sinking in.]
[That was exactly what she had been afraid of when she saw it... She's tended to a lot of bruises in her life, and that did not look like an ordinary one.
Her fingers inch closer, brushing over his as she does, and she pulls back suddenly at the cold touch.]
[His eyes close painfully as that sensation comes to mind and for a moment he's afraid it will take over him, but... It's dull, like remembering a sensation from a normal dream, where you remember it but it's just a small vestige of the original emotion.]
I... Wanted your nightmare energy. And to do so, your dream had to change...
[She remembers that sense of control being lost... and like she was lost. Like trying to grapple one's string of consciousness and falling short every time until it all spirals out of control... Certainly not the first time she's felt that way, but to have it manifest like that...]
I thought I was the one that couldn't control it. Or... there was someone else in there with us.
[Tifa's hand instinctively goes to rub at her neck where he had tried to bite her... where the blackened blood had come from her, and there's a small furrow of her brow.
Did that mean that she had some of it, too? And she never knew? That she isn't so immune to its effects, or was that just another symptom of the nightmare?
Her fingers press down on the spot before she shakes the thought away.]
But she wants to know and understand, and more importantly, she wants to help, which is why there's a look and a small sigh of sadness when he still doesn't meet her eyes.]
It's not as strong as back in the dream, but... It's like I can feel a dull stirring in my chest just looking at where I...
[No, he can't say it. It's not just this time that the notion of biting her until she bled upsets him. It's the other times. That very first attempt on that first Halloween. That time when he was a lindworm and killed her by it.
That taste of her blood filling his mouth...
It's also vivid still even now, and again he feels sick to his stomach, his expression worsening before he roughly jerks himself away from her to get off the bed.]
I need some water.
[Something rinse out this horrid aftertaste that lingers even now, phantom or not.]
He slips right out of Tifa's hands this time before she can stop him, but she doesn't chase after him either. Instead, she lets him go, her eyes defeated and casting down to her hands when he so adamantly jerks himself away.
And before he can leave the room, the sheets crumple as she gathers them into fists.]
[His ear flicks back slightly, his step faltering before he disappears out the door. And once he does, the cold air feels sharp against his bare skin, the back of his neck pricking at the sensation. It's then he realizes it's worsening due to his own energy, and he roughly closes his eyes, willing it all back before he continues to the kitchen.
It's now that he's grateful the dogs are down with Lyria, though it also makes him worry. What if he falls into another episode? What if he loses control...
....
The water splashes out of the glass from his distraction, and he hastily straightens the pitcher before grabbing a towel to wipe up the mess. He then gulps down the water, swallowing some, rinsing his mouth with the rest. The only real taste he had was that bile from before, but the phantom taste of Tifa's blood won't wash away so easily.
Even worse, he knows how he's making Tifa feel, but what can he do? It's just... Too much for him to try and process in the moment.
So he'll stay out there for a few minutes before he heaves a heavy sigh and makes hi way back to the room.]
[She waits, giving him his space to calm down, to get his head back on as straight as he can manage. Maybe it's better for her, too. She feels so helpless, so lost in how to help him this time. How does one pull someone out of the thoughts she knows he's having when this has happened to him so many times? And if he keeps refusing her, then what else is there for her to do? Force him into it? That isn't how she is, despite wanting to reach out and grab hold of him, to firmly take him in her arms until he tells her everything.
Until he lets her in...
And, when he returns, he'll find her exactly how he left her those few minutes ago, parts of the sheets burned away under her hands from where she had accidentally heated them until a small fire had sparked before she could put it out. She can change them later.
[Her hand twitches to reach for his that presses to his face, but she hesitates, the words and actions still not coming to her, and she instead tightens her fingers in frustration. Frustration because how many times has this happened to them now? One would think that this world would grow tired of playing such stupid games with them given how they usually end, but it hasn't yet.
The difference now is that she should be able to find the words and actions that she could try to comfort and reassure him with, but...
When all else fails...
Tifa shifts, moving until she's nearly seated on his lap in front of him, giving no place to hide or flee from her. No place to look away from the strength that she tries to give him, or the truth.]
Those weren't your thoughts. And even if they were...
[She pauses, biting her lip, because she has a feeling he won't like what's coming next.]
[He stiffens when she moves on top of him, and there is an instinctive reaction to try and move away. To keep himself as distant from her as possible.
To keep her safe from him.
But for better or worse, because they've been through this so many times, he knows it would be fruitless. She would still come at him, and... Truthfully, he needs her warmth, her reassurance.
Even if he feels he doesn't deserve them.
Still he can't look straight at her, but at least he won't move away...much.]
...I could taste your fear, Tifa.
[A rough answer in reply, fingers digging into the sheets as he feels that wave of cold returning.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
flamekthunder) wrote2025-04-07 09:12 pm
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And there's an unsettling feeling that swirls in the pit of her stomach.]
... Can I check?
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...Yes.
[And he'll straighten up, turning slightly for her.]
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And as soon as she sees it, there's a ripple of heat through the room as her dread only sinks in further.
There, on the nape of his neck, almost hidden beneath his hairline, is a mark. A bruise where the skin has blackened.]
... There's something here.
[Her fingers will graze along the line of it, never quite touching it... too scared to touch it for fear that it will bring him pain or only make it worse.]
Can you feel anything?
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...No—
[And now he's reaching back to touch it for himself, fingertips brushing over the bruise. Only then does he twitch at the cold sensation, dread sinking in.]
But I can feel it now. It's nightmare energy.
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Her fingers inch closer, brushing over his as she does, and she pulls back suddenly at the cold touch.]
Did it... put nightmare energy in you, or...?
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[A grim thought as those memories return...]
I think both.
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... What did you feel anyway? In the dream?
[Another pause, as she chooses her next words carefully.]
You kept talking like you needed more? From me...
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I... Wanted your nightmare energy. And to do so, your dream had to change...
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[She remembers that sense of control being lost... and like she was lost. Like trying to grapple one's string of consciousness and falling short every time until it all spirals out of control... Certainly not the first time she's felt that way, but to have it manifest like that...]
I thought I was the one that couldn't control it. Or... there was someone else in there with us.
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[Tifa's hand instinctively goes to rub at her neck where he had tried to bite her... where the blackened blood had come from her, and there's a small furrow of her brow.
Did that mean that she had some of it, too? And she never knew? That she isn't so immune to its effects, or was that just another symptom of the nightmare?
Her fingers press down on the spot before she shakes the thought away.]
Were you... even aware of what was going on?
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[A small sigh as his eyes go to her neck... And then quickly averts his gaze as he feels even a small hum of that craving.]
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Tell me what's on your mind? Please?
[He would do the same for her, wouldn't he?]
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[She can force his face back, but he can't look at her straight just yet, eyes downcast.]
...Everything. From what I did, to feeling it even now.
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[Those words don't sit well in her stomach...
But she wants to know and understand, and more importantly, she wants to help, which is why there's a look and a small sigh of sadness when he still doesn't meet her eyes.]
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[No, he can't say it. It's not just this time that the notion of biting her until she bled upsets him. It's the other times. That very first attempt on that first Halloween. That time when he was a lindworm and killed her by it.
That taste of her blood filling his mouth...
It's also vivid still even now, and again he feels sick to his stomach, his expression worsening before he roughly jerks himself away from her to get off the bed.]
I need some water.
[Something rinse out this horrid aftertaste that lingers even now, phantom or not.]
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He slips right out of Tifa's hands this time before she can stop him, but she doesn't chase after him either. Instead, she lets him go, her eyes defeated and casting down to her hands when he so adamantly jerks himself away.
And before he can leave the room, the sheets crumple as she gathers them into fists.]
... I'm sorry.
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It's now that he's grateful the dogs are down with Lyria, though it also makes him worry. What if he falls into another episode? What if he loses control...
....
The water splashes out of the glass from his distraction, and he hastily straightens the pitcher before grabbing a towel to wipe up the mess. He then gulps down the water, swallowing some, rinsing his mouth with the rest. The only real taste he had was that bile from before, but the phantom taste of Tifa's blood won't wash away so easily.
Even worse, he knows how he's making Tifa feel, but what can he do? It's just... Too much for him to try and process in the moment.
So he'll stay out there for a few minutes before he heaves a heavy sigh and makes hi way back to the room.]
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Until he lets her in...
And, when he returns, he'll find her exactly how he left her those few minutes ago, parts of the sheets burned away under her hands from where she had accidentally heated them until a small fire had sparked before she could put it out. She can change them later.
For now, her gaze snaps up when he returns.]
... Did the water help?
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[He'll be honest about that as he looks at her for a moment before he returns to bed...
...
He notes the burn on the sheets, but he won't say anything, already having a good guess as to how it came to be.]
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Eustace, please...
[She wastes no time getting to the point again.]
Tell me what I have to do to help.
[She doesn't know, but she wants to.]
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I don't know.
[He really wishes he could give an answer, but he has none.]
This was... It was just like that time when I was a lindworm. And I—
[He can't continue and just bites his lip.]
No, maybe it worse. At least then... It was just a single thought. But this...this was different. It was psychological.
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The difference now is that she should be able to find the words and actions that she could try to comfort and reassure him with, but...
When all else fails...
Tifa shifts, moving until she's nearly seated on his lap in front of him, giving no place to hide or flee from her. No place to look away from the strength that she tries to give him, or the truth.]
Those weren't your thoughts. And even if they were...
[She pauses, biting her lip, because she has a feeling he won't like what's coming next.]
It wouldn't change anything.
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To keep her safe from him.
But for better or worse, because they've been through this so many times, he knows it would be fruitless. She would still come at him, and... Truthfully, he needs her warmth, her reassurance.
Even if he feels he doesn't deserve them.
Still he can't look straight at her, but at least he won't move away...much.]
...I could taste your fear, Tifa.
[A rough answer in reply, fingers digging into the sheets as he feels that wave of cold returning.]
Tasted it and wanted more of it.
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...
And there's a hefty silence, only the sound of Tifa's shuffling and her steady breaths to fill it when she realizes something.]
Is that what you need to help make this go away?
[Her voice is heavy, quiet, as his her gaze as she stares at him.]
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🎀 fin.