[ the words are like a needle to the surface of heine's calm, sending a tiny spike of irritation through him despite how calm he otherwise feels. ] And how the hell do I do that?
[ because as best he can tell, he's trying. the memories are so clear for him, all but playing like a movie on the inside of his skull. vivid to the point of being difficult, his chest aching with the phantom pain of skin knitting over where bullet holes used to be. if vanessa can't see it then the problem isn't with heine's imagination, but rather with her powers.
if she has powers at all. now that he thinks about it, heine can tell that the calm he feels is preternatural, knows that under normal circumstances heine could never be so calm sitting this close to a woman.
in the back of his mind: "pathetic," kerberos taunts. heine can almost feel the hot breath on his ear. "when are you going to stop letting yourself be a plaything?"
the memory shifts, morphs. giovanni's face as he spits blood, layered over giovanni's face from six years before, his mouth a gash of raw terror as he watches heine—
watches heine—
heine's hands ripping flesh tearing through bodies punching their way straight through li— ]
Enough. [ heine rips his gaze away from vanessa's. all the tension floods back into him at once and he flings himself up from the couch to put some distance between them, ends up standing at the window just to remind himself that he's not trapped. his hands aren't sticky with blood, and although his breath is coming fast and panicky, he's still in control. ] That's enough.
no subject
[ because as best he can tell, he's trying. the memories are so clear for him, all but playing like a movie on the inside of his skull. vivid to the point of being difficult, his chest aching with the phantom pain of skin knitting over where bullet holes used to be. if vanessa can't see it then the problem isn't with heine's imagination, but rather with her powers.
if she has powers at all. now that he thinks about it, heine can tell that the calm he feels is preternatural, knows that under normal circumstances heine could never be so calm sitting this close to a woman.
in the back of his mind: "pathetic," kerberos taunts. heine can almost feel the hot breath on his ear. "when are you going to stop letting yourself be a plaything?"
the memory shifts, morphs. giovanni's face as he spits blood, layered over giovanni's face from six years before, his mouth a gash of raw terror as he watches heine—
watches heine—
heine's hands ripping flesh tearing through bodies punching their way straight through li— ]
Enough. [ heine rips his gaze away from vanessa's. all the tension floods back into him at once and he flings himself up from the couch to put some distance between them, ends up standing at the window just to remind himself that he's not trapped. his hands aren't sticky with blood, and although his breath is coming fast and panicky, he's still in control. ] That's enough.