[ oof. heine's startled intake of breath is audible, like being punched in the stomach, and for a long minute he can't meet welt's eyes. he's right, of course—it is unfair not to give anyone the choice, the opportunity to know what they're dealing with and make an informed decision. but heine just can't reconcile that logical knowledge with the deep-rooted, nauseating guilt he feels over what he did, just now and all those years ago.
he looks down at his hands and flexes his fingers a couple of times. for something capable of violence beyond most people's imaginings, they look awfully inoffensive. ]
You're right. [ on both counts—that heine doesn't always have to go it alone, but also that only heine can make that choice for himself. ] I'll figure it out one of these days, probably. I hope.
[ he looks up at welt again, considerably more lucid now that the conversation has chased his ghosts away. ]
no subject
he looks down at his hands and flexes his fingers a couple of times. for something capable of violence beyond most people's imaginings, they look awfully inoffensive. ]
You're right. [ on both counts—that heine doesn't always have to go it alone, but also that only heine can make that choice for himself. ] I'll figure it out one of these days, probably. I hope.
[ he looks up at welt again, considerably more lucid now that the conversation has chased his ghosts away. ]
Thanks for the water.