[Words that should have never come from Ignis Scientia's mouth, yet there they are. There are times he can almost tolerate the coffee here, but they are few and far between and right now it feels like the worst kind of idea.
He squeezes her fingers and moves after her, and when he sits down it's as if the tension in his body had been the only thing holding him up.]
Six-- [Ignis mutters, resting his head back.] This past week has been like a bloody nightmare.
( It isn't long until the scent of something... like lavender but not quite, wafts through the small house, and Kate carries two mugs over carefully, setting each directly on the table, because, really, who actually cares about what passes for furniture here and using coasters.
(If they were back in her world— not that such a thing is possible, but still— the story would be different. Her surroundings would be entirely different.
All of this has done nothing but make her ache with the realisation that she's still so far away from her world, and that returning will hurt for a whole host of other reasons.) )
Just this week?
( More like the whole month behind them. If she wasn't worried about Ignis' condition, her own was wearing down due to repeated trips down to watch Sorrow work on the Door, the artifact leaving its impression on her mind and body with constant nightmares and scattered thoughts on top of how it ripped through her powers. )
Mm, though the rest of the month has been fairly intolerable as well.
[He mutters a quiet 'thank you' when she brings over the tea and shifts up to take hold of the cup. While he's sitting upright, he holds himself with a strange deliberateness that only those who knew him well would notice, and the only sign that he's struggling with a level of discomfort that he's choosing not to mention.
It's been a long time since he's felt this tired. The Null invasion, perhaps, was the last time he came close.]
( There's a slight narrowing of Kate's dark eyes as he sits up, but she doesn't say a word about the way he sits, choosing to curl her legs under herself and blow steam from her cup instead.
There's nothing to be gained by pointing out his exhaustion again, they both are and they know it. Rather than that, she inhales the scent of tea and purses her lips at his question. )
I don't... know. ( Honestly. The month itself brought some interesting findings, but whether using her power on The Door was really... helpful in any way is something she hasn't found out yet. She should talk to Sorrow once she isn't exhausted, maybe.
A soft snort follows, the one thought that's been in her mind since she woke up finding voice. ) Dyin' would have hurt less.
[He doesn't stay sitting upright for long, and sinks back against the couch after a minute or so, silently grateful that his clear level of exhaustion wasn't pointed out. It doesn't need to be. They're both tired.
Tired enough that what she says doesn't provoke the swift reaction that it would have normally. He doesn't snap back against it, but mulls it over instead. In truth, she's probably right.
Ignis rests a hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb lightly over her kneecap.]
I may be the voice of dissent in this, but I'm quite glad you didn't die.
( She didn't go into this wanting to die. Once felt like more than enough, but when you die, the pain has an end. It doesn't continue burning through for days upon days until you can finally be healed. It's over.
And then, in this place, you come back. Fixed up and perfect. Easy enough to make death seem meaningless, to seem like a practical alternative to spending the last few days grimacing in pain and confined to her bed. Just a blip in their existence here. )
Me too.
( It would have been easier, less painful, sure. But waking up in Hope's temple and dealing with everyone's reactions is somehow worse than physical pain. )
[It's a dangerous thing, Ignis thinks, for death to be able to be reduced to something like a blip. It doesn't make any difference to the crushing loss that's felt when someone dies, only allows for reunions and well-earned lectures when they return. Perhaps that's worse.
He shifts a little closer to her and puts an arm out to silently beckon her in closer. Even through everything, it's good to be able to come back to this.]
I might have considered it as an alternative, myself. [The young man admits, after several long moments of thought over whether or not he should say it at all. He sips his drink to quickly distract his thoughts in the aftermath, closing his eyes but not minding the taste as much as he thought he would.]
We must stop wearing ourselves to the bone with these ordeals.
( It's a safety net. A terribly easy safety net to fall into. Why fight to come out of something, alive and in pain, when you can simply die and be resurrected? It's too practical a solution to ignore.
But he's calling her closer and every tired, dully aching part of her would rather give in than think about death for one more second, and she drains her cup and places it down before finding a comfortable way to lie against him. She's too old, too exhausted, and they're too blissfully alone, to even attempt to pretend that his presence is anything but a balm.
(And it's moments like this when she remembers how much older she is than him, despite everything. That he'd barely be out of university if they were in any other world, or had any other lives. It's a strange thing to remember, and always makes her limbs stiffen just that little bit.) )
And do what?
( It's an honest curiosity, because they're not good at doing things by halves, are they? )
[The young man thinks about that for a few moments, tilting his cup from side to side and watching the way that the liquid shifts against the sides. For people like them, there aren't really any other alternatives, are there?]
I was being facetious. [He replies with a faint, humourless smile as he squeezes his arm around her shoulders.]
( He's somehow right about both things. That they shouldn't overdo it but they will. Before coming here, she hadn't exhausted her powers in years, and this marks the third time since arriving in Hadriel the first time.
How did she end up back into these habits? )
Dunno what we'd do.
( This is nice, and comfortable, and there are times she believes she could sit here with him for hours without getting restless, but it's no better to sink into easy contentment than it is to obsess over work. )
[Ignis, too, has always been surprised by how easy it is to sit down and not feel the need to fidget when he's with her. The time is valued, seen as more than worth the loss of what others might consider to be more valuable pursuits.]
But you should be careful... at least for a while. Can you promise you'll try?
( She's bound up in promises, isn't she? Whether to herself or her friends, to the remnants of memories of her family, to him. Kate purses her lips and finds a more comfortable angle leaned against him, the weight of so many things practically tangible on her shoulders. The weight of vows broken and kept and the weight of exhaustion, working because that's all she knows.
How long can anyone keep pushing themselves like this? How many times has she thought I'm tired, whispered it out as a cry to those few she's let inside her circle? )
Alright.
( Her head lolls against his shoulder once more, a million weights pulling her closer to another stretch of sleep. )
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[Words that should have never come from Ignis Scientia's mouth, yet there they are. There are times he can almost tolerate the coffee here, but they are few and far between and right now it feels like the worst kind of idea.
He squeezes her fingers and moves after her, and when he sits down it's as if the tension in his body had been the only thing holding him up.]
Six-- [Ignis mutters, resting his head back.] This past week has been like a bloody nightmare.
no subject
(If they were back in her world— not that such a thing is possible, but still— the story would be different. Her surroundings would be entirely different.
All of this has done nothing but make her ache with the realisation that she's still so far away from her world, and that returning will hurt for a whole host of other reasons.) )
Just this week?
( More like the whole month behind them. If she wasn't worried about Ignis' condition, her own was wearing down due to repeated trips down to watch Sorrow work on the Door, the artifact leaving its impression on her mind and body with constant nightmares and scattered thoughts on top of how it ripped through her powers. )
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[He mutters a quiet 'thank you' when she brings over the tea and shifts up to take hold of the cup. While he's sitting upright, he holds himself with a strange deliberateness that only those who knew him well would notice, and the only sign that he's struggling with a level of discomfort that he's choosing not to mention.
It's been a long time since he's felt this tired. The Null invasion, perhaps, was the last time he came close.]
Was it at least worth the trouble you went to?
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There's nothing to be gained by pointing out his exhaustion again, they both are and they know it. Rather than that, she inhales the scent of tea and purses her lips at his question. )
I don't... know. ( Honestly. The month itself brought some interesting findings, but whether using her power on The Door was really... helpful in any way is something she hasn't found out yet. She should talk to Sorrow once she isn't exhausted, maybe.
A soft snort follows, the one thought that's been in her mind since she woke up finding voice. ) Dyin' would have hurt less.
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Tired enough that what she says doesn't provoke the swift reaction that it would have normally. He doesn't snap back against it, but mulls it over instead. In truth, she's probably right.
Ignis rests a hand on her knee, rubbing his thumb lightly over her kneecap.]
I may be the voice of dissent in this, but I'm quite glad you didn't die.
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And then, in this place, you come back. Fixed up and perfect. Easy enough to make death seem meaningless, to seem like a practical alternative to spending the last few days grimacing in pain and confined to her bed. Just a blip in their existence here. )
Me too.
( It would have been easier, less painful, sure. But waking up in Hope's temple and dealing with everyone's reactions is somehow worse than physical pain. )
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He shifts a little closer to her and puts an arm out to silently beckon her in closer. Even through everything, it's good to be able to come back to this.]
I might have considered it as an alternative, myself. [The young man admits, after several long moments of thought over whether or not he should say it at all. He sips his drink to quickly distract his thoughts in the aftermath, closing his eyes but not minding the taste as much as he thought he would.]
We must stop wearing ourselves to the bone with these ordeals.
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But he's calling her closer and every tired, dully aching part of her would rather give in than think about death for one more second, and she drains her cup and places it down before finding a comfortable way to lie against him. She's too old, too exhausted, and they're too blissfully alone, to even attempt to pretend that his presence is anything but a balm.
(And it's moments like this when she remembers how much older she is than him, despite everything. That he'd barely be out of university if they were in any other world, or had any other lives. It's a strange thing to remember, and always makes her limbs stiffen just that little bit.) )
And do what?
( It's an honest curiosity, because they're not good at doing things by halves, are they? )
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I was being facetious. [He replies with a faint, humourless smile as he squeezes his arm around her shoulders.]
I can't imagine us doing anything else.
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How did she end up back into these habits? )
Dunno what we'd do.
( This is nice, and comfortable, and there are times she believes she could sit here with him for hours without getting restless, but it's no better to sink into easy contentment than it is to obsess over work. )
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[Ignis, too, has always been surprised by how easy it is to sit down and not feel the need to fidget when he's with her. The time is valued, seen as more than worth the loss of what others might consider to be more valuable pursuits.]
But you should be careful... at least for a while. Can you promise you'll try?
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How long can anyone keep pushing themselves like this? How many times has she thought I'm tired, whispered it out as a cry to those few she's let inside her circle? )
Alright.
( Her head lolls against his shoulder once more, a million weights pulling her closer to another stretch of sleep. )