[She watches his face a moment longer, not daring to tear her eyes away lest she miss the first sign of pain, especially as she lets her hand relax against his cheek a little more, still pressed under his.
He says to trust him, and she does. Unconditionally. But she's stuck now between being too afraid to move any closer, and wanting to believe him when he says it's different, especially as she lets her gaze wander down to his shoulder and his arm, where that ice still lingers even after he's reached out to her.
As if all those nightmares she was afraid of have come back to taunt her.
Her other hand comes up, curling over the edge of the bed, and she lifts herself from her knees, a light sniffle leaving her. Slowly, she pushes herself up with a groan, and brings herself to sit at the edge of the bed where she watches him a little longer.
... Before she leans in and drapes her body over his, resting her weight on him as she brings her other arm to wrap around him, cautiously and hands still shaking, and closes her eyes...]
[Although now unconscious, his body will naturally lean into hers, and just her presence alone is helping to calm the stimulated energy, more and more of that frost and electricity disappearing. It'll be a slow process—he had used a lot after all—but at the very least his breathing will calm until it will seem as if he had just fallen back asleep.]
[She's never hurt him before, not with her dreamotion, and certainly not like that. It was always something that could heal him, heal them both, never harm. She thinks of their starflowers, even the ones that are withered along the headboard of their bed, and how bright their glow normally is. Of the little stars that always dance around them. Of the warm flames that kiss his cheek and his nose when he gets a little cold, or that blanket of warmth that comes over them when they're together.
How could it be used against him like this? What did she do wrong? Or rather, what is she not doing that could help make this go away? It's a hard question to ask when he doesn't answer... or when he might not even have the answers at all.
All she knows is that she's never been more scared of touching him, and of hurting him, than she is in this moment. He can beg her and plead with her to hold him until he can no longer speak, but she's not so sure that will change a thing.
Still. If it's what he wants... no, what he needs, then she is willing to push all of that aside. Stamp it out as she always does and be the pillar he needs to get through whatever this is.
So, when she feels him relaxing more and more, that darker, colder energy beginning to dull, she will finally loose that breath and carefully reach a hand out to brush it through his hair. Her eyes open so that she can watch over him as he sleeps, scanning his features for more signs of change, or of another nightmare coming for him. She had meant it when she said she would dive in to pull him out if she had to, and that hasn't changed.
Eventually, she moves, bringing herself up closer to him, shifting so that she's beside him rather than draped over him, so that she can more properly wrap her arms around him and pull him close, that hand on his cheek now cradling the back of his head and burying him into her neck.
Quietly, she whispers into his ear, wondering if he can still hear her voice.]
Just stay with me, okay? Don't go back to that place...
[That darker, scarier place where they had pulled themselves out of once before...]
[Deep in his subconscious in a place that's not quite dreaming but yet familiar, Eustace feels the different energies within him. Dreamotion, nightmare energy...and another. It's faint now, as if subdued, and he can sense his own growing as it continues to absorb it into its own. Had it been some kind of reaction? A last ditch effort to not be taken?
He doesn't know.
He's not sure if anyone would know, either, but...for now he allows himself to drift towards the flickering light that feels as if it could be snuffed out with just a breath. A little light that he can feel to be Tifa's hesitation and fears while trying to remain strong for him. Carefully he holds it close to his chest before he feels a presence and looks up to see himself—his "other" self—standing in front of him.
A self he still has yet to figure out if it's something else entirely or really is just a manifestation of his darker self. When it smiles with its red eyes gleaming, he can only hope it's something else, but—
Rejection is futile, you know?
That voice reminds him that it's not. That it really is just another form of himself that he while he's come to somewhat accept, he still loathes it all the same.
I kept warning you... Can't keep me buried forever. Should be thanking me or you would have been noctaere bait.
The smugness grates on his nerves, but Eustace just stares coldly at it. Because as much as he loathes it, he can't refute it. If he hadn't developed his skills as much as he had...
It's not so bad is it? This power? But...
His other self clicks its tongue as its gaze drifts off somewhere, and although Eustace looks over all he can see is darkness...and feel a cold wind.
You got something here. Better figure it out before it's too late.
With that his other self disappears into the darkness, and Eustace can only stare in confusion before he turns his gaze once more to where the other had been looking.
Something else? Did it mean from what he absorbed from the Ice Queen?
At that moment, there's a sharp prick of his neck, and its enough to rouse him, stirring in Tifa's arms with a grimace.]
[She's already awake when he stirs, or she's been awake this whole time, rather, watching him with her hand gently stroking through his hair in idle, sleepy motions. So when she feels him move even a little, there's that spike in panic in her chest that has her breath catching, and she holds him to her just a little more firmly.]
Eustace?
[Her voice is barely a whisper in his ear, tentative and testing to see if he can hear her, or if he's stuck again. There are no signs of more ice or electricity, so that's promising, but she isn't going to let out that sigh of relief just yet...]
[A rough murmur as he stirs more awake, wincing only from the lingering strain he just went through before he raises his arm to look and see it's more or less returned to normal with only faint traces still lingering.]
[She tries not to move too much when he says her name, only bringing herself back far enough that she can get a better, more proper look at him, her hands coming to hold both sides of his face. They are still a touch cold, but far better than what they had been just hours ago.]
[Didn't, is what she means to say, but they both know that is far from the truth. Heck, she's still scared now that she might hurt him if she even tries to warm her hands or his, or if those starflowers that surround them bloom any further than they have already tried.
So she takes a small breath and presses her forehead to his.]
You didn't mean to, it's okay. [He'll feel her clutch his face just a little tighter.] I'm sorry for hurting you...
[Something she'll probably never forgive herself for, even when they are long past this.]
Something shifts in Tifa's demeanour, her own eyes hardening, a shadow coming over them. Lips press firmly and her brows draw together in thought, and slowly, she pushes herself up to sit beside him, her hair falling away from her face. There's a new fear in her expression, or maybe it never left, she doesn't know, but it's there, clear as day, as she stares down at him in horrified disbelief.]
... What do you mean, against noctaere?
[The words come out strained against that horrible lump that's grown in her throat, and the dread that settles in the pit of her stomach.
She sounds almost angry that he could even be insinuating such a thing.]
She slowly comes back down to lie beside him, that distance that's there far too wide for her liking, and her arm slides over and around his shoulder, her cold body coming right up against his.]
But you don't think that you're turning into...?
[She can't even bring herself to say it, her lip catching under her teeth as she bites back the word she doesn't dare breathe life into, lest it be true.]
[She moves her eyes, gaze following her fingers as they trace over the lines of his shoulder, images of that blackened ice and the lightning trying to consume it overlapping with what it is now.]
[Her hand slides over his shoulder and to his chest where she presses her palm to his skin, firmly, as if seeking the heartbeat that she should know is there... but there's that small part of her that looks for it anyway.]
When you say push it back...
[Slowly, Tifa's eyes move up to meet his again, and they spark with worry.]
[She's not saying she doesn't trust him to know what he's doing with it, but... she can't help listen to those little pangs of doubt that ring loud in her head.]
I could have helped... I should have taken some...
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flamekthunder) wrote2025-04-07 09:12 pm
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He says to trust him, and she does. Unconditionally. But she's stuck now between being too afraid to move any closer, and wanting to believe him when he says it's different, especially as she lets her gaze wander down to his shoulder and his arm, where that ice still lingers even after he's reached out to her.
As if all those nightmares she was afraid of have come back to taunt her.
Her other hand comes up, curling over the edge of the bed, and she lifts herself from her knees, a light sniffle leaving her. Slowly, she pushes herself up with a groan, and brings herself to sit at the edge of the bed where she watches him a little longer.
... Before she leans in and drapes her body over his, resting her weight on him as she brings her other arm to wrap around him, cautiously and hands still shaking, and closes her eyes...]
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How could it be used against him like this? What did she do wrong? Or rather, what is she not doing that could help make this go away? It's a hard question to ask when he doesn't answer... or when he might not even have the answers at all.
All she knows is that she's never been more scared of touching him, and of hurting him, than she is in this moment. He can beg her and plead with her to hold him until he can no longer speak, but she's not so sure that will change a thing.
Still. If it's what he wants... no, what he needs, then she is willing to push all of that aside. Stamp it out as she always does and be the pillar he needs to get through whatever this is.
So, when she feels him relaxing more and more, that darker, colder energy beginning to dull, she will finally loose that breath and carefully reach a hand out to brush it through his hair. Her eyes open so that she can watch over him as he sleeps, scanning his features for more signs of change, or of another nightmare coming for him. She had meant it when she said she would dive in to pull him out if she had to, and that hasn't changed.
Eventually, she moves, bringing herself up closer to him, shifting so that she's beside him rather than draped over him, so that she can more properly wrap her arms around him and pull him close, that hand on his cheek now cradling the back of his head and burying him into her neck.
Quietly, she whispers into his ear, wondering if he can still hear her voice.]
Just stay with me, okay? Don't go back to that place...
[That darker, scarier place where they had pulled themselves out of once before...]
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He doesn't know.
He's not sure if anyone would know, either, but...for now he allows himself to drift towards the flickering light that feels as if it could be snuffed out with just a breath. A little light that he can feel to be Tifa's hesitation and fears while trying to remain strong for him. Carefully he holds it close to his chest before he feels a presence and looks up to see himself—his "other" self—standing in front of him.
A self he still has yet to figure out if it's something else entirely or really is just a manifestation of his darker self. When it smiles with its red eyes gleaming, he can only hope it's something else, but—
Rejection is futile, you know?
That voice reminds him that it's not. That it really is just another form of himself that he while he's come to somewhat accept, he still loathes it all the same.
I kept warning you... Can't keep me buried forever. Should be thanking me or you would have been noctaere bait.
The smugness grates on his nerves, but Eustace just stares coldly at it. Because as much as he loathes it, he can't refute it. If he hadn't developed his skills as much as he had...
It's not so bad is it? This power? But...
His other self clicks its tongue as its gaze drifts off somewhere, and although Eustace looks over all he can see is darkness...and feel a cold wind.
You got something here. Better figure it out before it's too late.
With that his other self disappears into the darkness, and Eustace can only stare in confusion before he turns his gaze once more to where the other had been looking.
Something else? Did it mean from what he absorbed from the Ice Queen?
At that moment, there's a sharp prick of his neck, and its enough to rouse him, stirring in Tifa's arms with a grimace.]
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Eustace?
[Her voice is barely a whisper in his ear, tentative and testing to see if he can hear her, or if he's stuck again. There are no signs of more ice or electricity, so that's promising, but she isn't going to let out that sigh of relief just yet...]
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[A rough murmur as he stirs more awake, wincing only from the lingering strain he just went through before he raises his arm to look and see it's more or less returned to normal with only faint traces still lingering.]
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I'm here. What is it?
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[A small sigh as he leans into her hands.]
I'm sorry... For scaring you...
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[Didn't, is what she means to say, but they both know that is far from the truth. Heck, she's still scared now that she might hurt him if she even tries to warm her hands or his, or if those starflowers that surround them bloom any further than they have already tried.
So she takes a small breath and presses her forehead to his.]
You didn't mean to, it's okay. [He'll feel her clutch his face just a little tighter.] I'm sorry for hurting you...
[Something she'll probably never forgive herself for, even when they are long past this.]
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You couldn't have known... What happened was... Different.
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[She leans in, looking like she is about to kiss him—and she is—but she hesitates, that longing and doubt both swirling in her sleepy eyes.]
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[Well.
Yes he wants that kiss, but he feels he should say this before he forgets.
Or if it happens again.
So he places his hands on her shoulders to keep her back.]
What happened...
The reason why your dreamotion worked against me...is because of the nightmare energy I had absorbed from the Ice Queen, I think.
[Here he hesitates, since he's not completely certain, but it's the only thing that makes sense.]
Usually you help keep things balanced and it doesn't hurt... But this was as if I was experiencing a negative reaction...
[His eyes harden as he looks at her.]
Like how we use dreamotion to fight against noctaere.
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Something shifts in Tifa's demeanour, her own eyes hardening, a shadow coming over them. Lips press firmly and her brows draw together in thought, and slowly, she pushes herself up to sit beside him, her hair falling away from her face. There's a new fear in her expression, or maybe it never left, she doesn't know, but it's there, clear as day, as she stares down at him in horrified disbelief.]
... What do you mean, against noctaere?
[The words come out strained against that horrible lump that's grown in her throat, and the dread that settles in the pit of her stomach.
She sounds almost angry that he could even be insinuating such a thing.]
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[He sighs as he rubs his brow.]
It was as if a different kind of energy was trying to take over me. Something not my own.
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[That doesn't make her feel any better, and she moves so that she's leaning over him, her fingers running into his hair.]
Like... the Ice Queen's?
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She slowly comes back down to lie beside him, that distance that's there far too wide for her liking, and her arm slides over and around his shoulder, her cold body coming right up against his.]
But you don't think that you're turning into...?
[She can't even bring herself to say it, her lip catching under her teeth as she bites back the word she doesn't dare breathe life into, lest it be true.]
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[A firm shake of his head as he wraps his arms around her, the cold temperature of her body bothering him.]
...But if I hadn't been able to control it, I might have.
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... Is that... what was happening with your arm?
[She moves her eyes, gaze following her fingers as they trace over the lines of his shoulder, images of that blackened ice and the lightning trying to consume it overlapping with what it is now.]
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It was... And I had to use my own to push it back.
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When you say push it back...
[Slowly, Tifa's eyes move up to meet his again, and they spark with worry.]
... Does that mean it's still there? Inside you?
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I don't know. I think I managed to take it as my own, but... I really don't know.
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[She's not saying she doesn't trust him to know what he's doing with it, but... she can't help listen to those little pangs of doubt that ring loud in her head.]
I could have helped... I should have taken some...
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[He can't fault her for the idea, but there's a hard look in his eye.]
I could barely control it and I have experience. What would happen if it tried to overwhelm you?
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[She sounds and looks defeated under that stare he fixes her with because she knows he's right.]
That was too much for even you... and there was nothing I could do about it...
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