[ then it would be my choice, he thinks. but is that really true? he hadn't invited anyone to jump, and before that, he'd been almost eager to finally have a decent plan for the night that didn't involve skulking around through the down in an attempt not to be noticed. so, no. it wouldn't be his choice to die, and he's come so far, through so much already.
why would he choose now to give up? because he didn't want to taste the blood of someone else he'd gotten closer to?
he grimaces as he balances on one hand in an effort to sit upright once more, the protest in his body so great that he nearly doesn't succeed. yet, larus holds onto dorian like a lifeline, pulling himself close so he can rest his forehead anywhere against him—his arm, his shoulder. the loud ricochet of his heart is enough to tell him that none of this does make sense, trying to sort out any other reason he'd refuse and finding nothing. ]
I don't know how much, [ he whispers, stringing the words together carefully. ] But I don't – I won't kill you.
[ he has enough control over that. or he hopes he does. ]
no subject
why would he choose now to give up? because he didn't want to taste the blood of someone else he'd gotten closer to?
he grimaces as he balances on one hand in an effort to sit upright once more, the protest in his body so great that he nearly doesn't succeed. yet, larus holds onto dorian like a lifeline, pulling himself close so he can rest his forehead anywhere against him—his arm, his shoulder. the loud ricochet of his heart is enough to tell him that none of this does make sense, trying to sort out any other reason he'd refuse and finding nothing. ]
I don't know how much, [ he whispers, stringing the words together carefully. ] But I don't – I won't kill you.
[ he has enough control over that. or he hopes he does. ]