The sound of her voice—Sion, look at me—is gentle, its intonations a tenderhearted caress against the cheek, but he cannot look up, away from the body in his arms, all remaining warmth draining from the person he'd come to call his family with the seep of blood which soaks into the carpeted flooring and Sion's uniform, the fall of his hair staining red as it shrouds them both. It is a younger brother who he holds fast to, knowing for himself the boy's hopes and dreams, and in a year's time, they'd walked forward in pursuit of them together only for it to end like this: a life taken away, aspirations gone unrealized, and only one person to blame.
Perhaps Alice can feel it, the despondency which has settled over Sion, his eyes fixed upon the boy's face—why is it that, even in death, his subordinate has chosen to wear a smile?—tears collecting along his jaw to fall upon the body.
Alice, she is close enough to reach out to, her skirts rustling with a whisper of fabric as she hovers before him, and yet--... ]
I did this.
[ ...he would withdraw, were it possible. She should not be here, it's much too dangerous, she'll be hurt too. ]
I killed him, it is my fault.
[ So why should he not look at what his own hands have wrought? He'd been foolish enough to think that the repercussions of his actions would fall upon himself alone; that those beneath him would be safe, if he were to keep them in the dark, shielded from his own pursuit of idealism and equality for all in the Quad. ]
Take your leave of this place, Alice. I could not bear it if you were to meet a similar fate.
no subject
The sound of her voice—Sion, look at me—is gentle, its intonations a tenderhearted caress against the cheek, but he cannot look up, away from the body in his arms, all remaining warmth draining from the person he'd come to call his family with the seep of blood which soaks into the carpeted flooring and Sion's uniform, the fall of his hair staining red as it shrouds them both. It is a younger brother who he holds fast to, knowing for himself the boy's hopes and dreams, and in a year's time, they'd walked forward in pursuit of them together only for it to end like this: a life taken away, aspirations gone unrealized, and only one person to blame.
Perhaps Alice can feel it, the despondency which has settled over Sion, his eyes fixed upon the boy's face—why is it that, even in death, his subordinate has chosen to wear a smile?—tears collecting along his jaw to fall upon the body.
Alice, she is close enough to reach out to, her skirts rustling with a whisper of fabric as she hovers before him, and yet--... ]
I did this.
[ ...he would withdraw, were it possible. She should not be here, it's much too dangerous, she'll be hurt too. ]
I killed him, it is my fault.
[ So why should he not look at what his own hands have wrought? He'd been foolish enough to think that the repercussions of his actions would fall upon himself alone; that those beneath him would be safe, if he were to keep them in the dark, shielded from his own pursuit of idealism and equality for all in the Quad. ]
Take your leave of this place, Alice. I could not bear it if you were to meet a similar fate.