fei du coughs. the noise is sort of instinctual - his hand curls tight in the front of his open shirt, half like he could close it, try and close himself up and throw away the key, as he sucks in a breath. ]
...Nahida. [ his voice is hoarse, when he does talk. his thoughts are nightmarishly bad still, a tangle of static. don't no no why it wasn't supposed to no don't get it together get it together no no ] Did... sorry.
[ god. he takes in a deep breath and manages to just - suck it all in. he has to ignore the thoughts, because he has to frantically cling to some semblance of normality, to something, when he just wants - he just can't -
electricity sparks lightly over his knuckles, and he curls his hands tightly at his sides, dropping them and trying to put himself back together. it doesn't look like fei du's been crying or anything, but he looks haunted, half a mile away, dissociating out of his body. his thoughts are much of the same, that awful, tangled, staticky despair of words and discordant violin. ]
[that haunted expression is painful. she knows he's been through a lot - she's seen some of the hurts he's suffered, in his memories - and she knows just how much luo wenzhou means to him, so she can understand why he would react this way. why his thoughts would be the way that they are.
what she doesn't know is how she can help. she does know that she wants to, though.]
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fei du coughs. the noise is sort of instinctual - his hand curls tight in the front of his open shirt, half like he could close it, try and close himself up and throw away the key, as he sucks in a breath. ]
...Nahida. [ his voice is hoarse, when he does talk. his thoughts are nightmarishly bad still, a tangle of static. don't no no why it wasn't supposed to no don't get it together get it together no no ] Did... sorry.
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[she's kind of the one who just opened the door and walked in. imagine respecting closed doors and locks, couldn't be someone from an rpg.
It's okay if you aren't okay with this. It hurts to see what happened this week.]
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electricity sparks lightly over his knuckles, and he curls his hands tightly at his sides, dropping them and trying to put himself back together. it doesn't look like fei du's been crying or anything, but he looks haunted, half a mile away, dissociating out of his body. his thoughts are much of the same, that awful, tangled, staticky despair of words and discordant violin. ]
... Did you need something?
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[that haunted expression is painful. she knows he's been through a lot - she's seen some of the hurts he's suffered, in his memories - and she knows just how much luo wenzhou means to him, so she can understand why he would react this way. why his thoughts would be the way that they are.
what she doesn't know is how she can help. she does know that she wants to, though.]