[His breathing is ragged as he struggles, but her voice manages to come through and he latches onto it, a small thread to help ground himself.
He doesn't know what memory this is, and if anyone had amnesia like he has, they would likely be afraid and want to avoid it. It feels terrible, as if it would be better if he just forgot it all and lived this new life in ignorant bliss.
But he can't. He refuses. It's not him, and painful or not, he needs that memory. There was something deeper, special, happy buried in that hatred and pain, a reason why it seems terrible. Most importantly, somewhere deep inside a part of him has been trying to hold onto those memories and he feels as if he can't forgot them, as if he would never willingly allow himself and hate it more if he did.
Nails dig into the wood as he literally tries to claw his way out. He wants to chase after the memories but he the further he pushes, the worse it gets, and something else from deep within reaches him—a concern, a worry, a resolve to not hurt anyone with his own problems. As must as he hates it, he lets go of the tail he had been trying to grab, letting it run...for now. He needs to calm down, try again later.
At least he has something now.
So the ice won't progress any further, and some of the tension in the air weakens, the tremors subsiding. But he'll need a little bit before he's fully back in control, still trying to ride through the remnants of the emotional flood.]
no subject
He doesn't know what memory this is, and if anyone had amnesia like he has, they would likely be afraid and want to avoid it. It feels terrible, as if it would be better if he just forgot it all and lived this new life in ignorant bliss.
But he can't. He refuses. It's not him, and painful or not, he needs that memory. There was something deeper, special, happy buried in that hatred and pain, a reason why it seems terrible. Most importantly, somewhere deep inside a part of him has been trying to hold onto those memories and he feels as if he can't forgot them, as if he would never willingly allow himself and hate it more if he did.
Nails dig into the wood as he literally tries to claw his way out. He wants to chase after the memories but he the further he pushes, the worse it gets, and something else from deep within reaches him—a concern, a worry, a resolve to not hurt anyone with his own problems. As must as he hates it, he lets go of the tail he had been trying to grab, letting it run...for now. He needs to calm down, try again later.
At least he has something now.
So the ice won't progress any further, and some of the tension in the air weakens, the tremors subsiding. But he'll need a little bit before he's fully back in control, still trying to ride through the remnants of the emotional flood.]