Yes, it does. [ it comes out forceful and ragged, and his hands very nearly claw at konstantin's cheeks, as if he's trying to drag him closer when there's no more closer to gain. their lips are so close, but just far enough away not to touch. not yet. he can't, not yet. ] It matters to me. It'll always matter to me. Your well-being matters to meet, your happiness, your —
[ the words end abruptly as a fresh sob fights its way up sasha's throat, and simultaneously spills from his mouth and his eyes. the pressure of konstantin's fingers on his neck makes him shiver and shudder, an old fire is set ablaze once again in his stomach but almost as quickly extinguished by all the tears that not only drip down his face, but down the outline of his soul. the battle between familiarity and pain is unusual, unstoppable, because both sides are fuelled by something that is bigger than both the two men tangled together in the sand.
he almost wants to laugh when konstantin starts to hum. a tune he knows so well, one that has always been their own. as comforting as a warm palm against his own, a kiss to the temple and fingers carding through his hair when he's gone a little too long between cuts, mussed and made amusingly taller. different sides of the emotional spectrum continue to claw at each other, but sasha is comforted. he can't help that, that all the burning thoughts simmer down upon hearing that beautiful little song.
when sasha speaks again, his voice is a hoarse whisper. calmer, but no less charged with jolts of sadness. ]
Why is it still so hard to make you understand? [ konstantin is wrong. apologies do start to mend the wounds that were made. they certainly won't heal them all — oh, the wounds are far too numerous for that — but it's foolish, in sasha's mind, to discount the help that a single stitch can do. one wound closed, many more to be seen to. but they can be seen to. ] Maybe... maybe I'm the one that doesn't understand. Do you not want my forgiveness? At all, ever? Do you want me to tell you, yes, you broke everything and ruined it. And then what?
[ the ragged trembles of his shoulders start to slow. although his vision remains blurred from the steady stream of water running from his eyes, the initial storm of feeling is starting to clear. ]
You did break the promise. You did. You had a reason, I'm sure of it, but that doesn't excuse it. It doesn't... fix anything, the reason. But you do. You're here. You wouldn't be here if you weren't at least hoping for something good to come out of this. I mean —
[ he makes a frustrated noise. ]
You're here to give me closure, to explain and lessen some of the hurt you caused me — but you keep talking like you've not picked up some of the broken pieces by coming here. You hold me like you have. Your hands beg for me to take back those pieces and start putting them together again. And I will, [ he breathes, barely audible but inescapably determined, ] if you stop talking like that.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2016-11-20 05:42 pm (UTC)[ the words end abruptly as a fresh sob fights its way up sasha's throat, and simultaneously spills from his mouth and his eyes. the pressure of konstantin's fingers on his neck makes him shiver and shudder, an old fire is set ablaze once again in his stomach but almost as quickly extinguished by all the tears that not only drip down his face, but down the outline of his soul. the battle between familiarity and pain is unusual, unstoppable, because both sides are fuelled by something that is bigger than both the two men tangled together in the sand.
he almost wants to laugh when konstantin starts to hum. a tune he knows so well, one that has always been their own. as comforting as a warm palm against his own, a kiss to the temple and fingers carding through his hair when he's gone a little too long between cuts, mussed and made amusingly taller. different sides of the emotional spectrum continue to claw at each other, but sasha is comforted. he can't help that, that all the burning thoughts simmer down upon hearing that beautiful little song.
when sasha speaks again, his voice is a hoarse whisper. calmer, but no less charged with jolts of sadness. ]
Why is it still so hard to make you understand? [ konstantin is wrong. apologies do start to mend the wounds that were made. they certainly won't heal them all — oh, the wounds are far too numerous for that — but it's foolish, in sasha's mind, to discount the help that a single stitch can do. one wound closed, many more to be seen to. but they can be seen to. ] Maybe... maybe I'm the one that doesn't understand. Do you not want my forgiveness? At all, ever? Do you want me to tell you, yes, you broke everything and ruined it. And then what?
[ the ragged trembles of his shoulders start to slow. although his vision remains blurred from the steady stream of water running from his eyes, the initial storm of feeling is starting to clear. ]
You did break the promise. You did. You had a reason, I'm sure of it, but that doesn't excuse it. It doesn't... fix anything, the reason. But you do. You're here. You wouldn't be here if you weren't at least hoping for something good to come out of this. I mean —
[ he makes a frustrated noise. ]
You're here to give me closure, to explain and lessen some of the hurt you caused me — but you keep talking like you've not picked up some of the broken pieces by coming here. You hold me like you have. Your hands beg for me to take back those pieces and start putting them together again. And I will, [ he breathes, barely audible but inescapably determined, ] if you stop talking like that.