[ He intones right after her, alluding to his own choice in the process. Two choices that have lead them right here to one another after all. His voice is quiet and calm, sharp and clear as a starry night might be, but sparked with the truth of the statement also. Almost like a quip, though he'd deny the flicker of a smile if confronted about it. Instead, Messer is patient while she settles, her slim frame edging along his more severe outline, slow and mindful. Even in his injured state, he's too grounded to think that this is all just some fever dream. All the tension recedes, like a tide, like the waves of Ragna he's watches so many times before. Kaname tucks herself near him, proving how scant little separates them.
Exhaustion burns in him, dully, but his pulse ticks all the same. Her coaxing gets him to face her, pulled by the gentleness of her touch, unlike everything else he's felt recently. Scarred metal, shattered glass, fire, smoke. He blinks, eyelids heavy, but ultimately keeps looking at her. An anchor in the tide, gravity beneath a sky. Beautiful things that remind him of home. This is who she is, to him.
Even when her face is streaked with dust and dried tears. Messer shifts on the pillow to see her better, to chase that whisper of a laugh. ]
...and in saying it, I've been waiting to hear that.
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[ He intones right after her, alluding to his own choice in the process. Two choices that have lead them right here to one another after all. His voice is quiet and calm, sharp and clear as a starry night might be, but sparked with the truth of the statement also. Almost like a quip, though he'd deny the flicker of a smile if confronted about it. Instead, Messer is patient while she settles, her slim frame edging along his more severe outline, slow and mindful. Even in his injured state, he's too grounded to think that this is all just some fever dream. All the tension recedes, like a tide, like the waves of Ragna he's watches so many times before. Kaname tucks herself near him, proving how scant little separates them.
Exhaustion burns in him, dully, but his pulse ticks all the same. Her coaxing gets him to face her, pulled by the gentleness of her touch, unlike everything else he's felt recently. Scarred metal, shattered glass, fire, smoke. He blinks, eyelids heavy, but ultimately keeps looking at her. An anchor in the tide, gravity beneath a sky. Beautiful things that remind him of home. This is who she is, to him.
Even when her face is streaked with dust and dried tears. Messer shifts on the pillow to see her better, to chase that whisper of a laugh. ]
...and in saying it, I've been waiting to hear that.
[ A hello, rather than a goodbye. ]