that's the only way to describe it. devastating. yves has lost everything - how much it must hurt, to have lost adolphe first thing once again. how many more painful losses is yves expecting? (but then again - when someone's heart is so large, won't they always?) the sight makes his heart hurt, and, reflexively, with each loss, his grip tightens, until he's holding onto yves' hands like a lifeline.
scien's condition - self inflicted as it is - is hard for an empathetic heart to witness, but it's not any excuse to destroy anything, not like that. and he's almost white knuckling as the two reach their conclusion in battle, aching for yves' kind, warm heart even as they're fighting to the death. he can see it coming, when he steps into the knife, but he flinches anyway, and doesn't turn his gaze. it's all yves deserves,for him to see this through to the end the way he saw through taair's, too.
by the time it's over, he's trembling a little, though it's not out of fear. it's just an overwhelming amount of emotions all at once, and he breathes out the gasp he sucked in when he flinches, slowly. ]
Oh, Yves... [ the death of a martyr, he'd thought, at first - and maybe that's true, but there's a similarity between the two of them that echoes like a string freshly plucked. a choice, in death. a choice in contentment. maybe a choice in cowardice, too. he looks up, finally, expression a thousand emotions at once - concern, sorrow, worry. empathy, too. ]
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that's the only way to describe it. devastating. yves has lost everything - how much it must hurt, to have lost adolphe first thing once again. how many more painful losses is yves expecting? (but then again - when someone's heart is so large, won't they always?) the sight makes his heart hurt, and, reflexively, with each loss, his grip tightens, until he's holding onto yves' hands like a lifeline.
scien's condition - self inflicted as it is - is hard for an empathetic heart to witness, but it's not any excuse to destroy anything, not like that. and he's almost white knuckling as the two reach their conclusion in battle, aching for yves' kind, warm heart even as they're fighting to the death. he can see it coming, when he steps into the knife, but he flinches anyway, and doesn't turn his gaze. it's all yves deserves,for him to see this through to the end the way he saw through taair's, too.
by the time it's over, he's trembling a little, though it's not out of fear. it's just an overwhelming amount of emotions all at once, and he breathes out the gasp he sucked in when he flinches, slowly. ]
Oh, Yves... [ the death of a martyr, he'd thought, at first - and maybe that's true, but there's a similarity between the two of them that echoes like a string freshly plucked. a choice, in death. a choice in contentment. maybe a choice in cowardice, too. he looks up, finally, expression a thousand emotions at once - concern, sorrow, worry. empathy, too. ]