[ His apology bothers her, his obedience bothers her, so much that she's forced to question her insistence upon being bothered. It's easier, certainly, but not what she wants (isn't it?). Setsuna isn't Haji (for what very little she knows of him), isn't like anyone else within her shallow memory, and there's a reason she keeps drifting towards him despite the riptide that should yank her away. At some point it's more than the current forcing her hand. ]
[ It doesn't help that drinking his blood is -- soothing. Easy, in all the ways it shouldn't be. Saya tries to remember that it's not just her, that Setsuna has a way that should draw in broken things like herself, but somewhere between gulping down his blood and shuddering against him the thought escapes her. ]
[ He's correct that this isn't like her other feedings, and when she's done there's a void where shame or avarice should be, her mind filling the space with the only thing left: gratitude. So easy, in these weak moments, to remember why she loves him, to believe that, against every better piece of her, that those feelings could be enough, to expand her delusional little bubble one more moment, one more day. She pulls her mouth away before the punctures close, using the blood dripping down his shoulder, the few tears she allows herself mingling in the blood trails, hoping he won't notice. ]
Don't apologize, [ she finally says, still against him, voice steady and eyes already drying. ] I can't tell you to go away properly when you're being so -- Setsuna. [ She smiles a little, at last, dryly. Damn persistent angel. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2021-11-14 05:01 am (UTC)[ It doesn't help that drinking his blood is -- soothing. Easy, in all the ways it shouldn't be. Saya tries to remember that it's not just her, that Setsuna has a way that should draw in broken things like herself, but somewhere between gulping down his blood and shuddering against him the thought escapes her. ]
[ He's correct that this isn't like her other feedings, and when she's done there's a void where shame or avarice should be, her mind filling the space with the only thing left: gratitude. So easy, in these weak moments, to remember why she loves him, to believe that, against every better piece of her, that those feelings could be enough, to expand her delusional little bubble one more moment, one more day. She pulls her mouth away before the punctures close, using the blood dripping down his shoulder, the few tears she allows herself mingling in the blood trails, hoping he won't notice. ]
Don't apologize, [ she finally says, still against him, voice steady and eyes already drying. ] I can't tell you to go away properly when you're being so -- Setsuna. [ She smiles a little, at last, dryly. Damn persistent angel. ]