[There's something so tender yet so intense behind his words. Deep-seated and all-encompassing. The light buzzes overhead and yet it feels as if Dante had never turned it on at all.
Unlike when he'd come to them before, their vessel remains full--resolutely so. He can't reach into them like before to rip those feelings or attachments away. But it's plain as day to them now that he still wants to, whether what they hold is painful or precious.
They take his hand in both of theirs, holding it between them.]
< I can't go that far. >
[They feel guilty about that, despite it all, and the weight of their response drags their gaze from his.]
no subject
Unlike when he'd come to them before, their vessel remains full--resolutely so. He can't reach into them like before to rip those feelings or attachments away. But it's plain as day to them now that he still wants to, whether what they hold is painful or precious.
They take his hand in both of theirs, holding it between them.]
< I can't go that far. >
[They feel guilty about that, despite it all, and the weight of their response drags their gaze from his.]
< I can't leave them behind. I'm sorry. >