[ It would be easy to let these death tolls live on the peripherals of his mind like the meager rake of claw over silk, breath serrated by corporeal imprisonment. But where that was a curse to her, it would be a kindness to him. His perception intuits what it means to deserve and his senses sharpen in the draw of minutes counted by a sword's whisper. The sound of individual raindrops in a howling storm. This man kills and its joylessness permeates like her undone body does. Subaru cannot kill, and it feels a punishment delivered to the wedding chamber.
Like that, he listens through the charmed walls of the inn, the gaps in the door that do not present as gaps. To collisions bearing all the violence of the cosmos and none of the beauty, no shimmering fragments lush with virulent stardust. There is only the last exhale before desolation, a sensation that wrings his nerves of warmth.
Before the final separating of the whole. It takes so long. Where his arm would have severed in an instant, her severing lasts a time.
When the other man emerges from the chamber, a plume of somber, heated metallics, Subaru does not immediately move to the doorway with footsteps as soft and wet as the continued plips of blood that fall from his fingers. Finally, there is stillness. ]
Your blade sang a rite.
[ There is no thanking this. There is no apologizing for it. She is cursed, but her curse does not lie here in this inn. He has realized that much. ]
no subject
Like that, he listens through the charmed walls of the inn, the gaps in the door that do not present as gaps. To collisions bearing all the violence of the cosmos and none of the beauty, no shimmering fragments lush with virulent stardust. There is only the last exhale before desolation, a sensation that wrings his nerves of warmth.
Before the final separating of the whole. It takes so long. Where his arm would have severed in an instant, her severing lasts a time.
When the other man emerges from the chamber, a plume of somber, heated metallics, Subaru does not immediately move to the doorway with footsteps as soft and wet as the continued plips of blood that fall from his fingers. Finally, there is stillness. ]
Your blade sang a rite.
[ There is no thanking this. There is no apologizing for it. She is cursed, but her curse does not lie here in this inn. He has realized that much. ]