[ At once, he finds himself taken aback by the lightning bolt images of thought and memory that come through to him — like flipping through a television set, lingering just long enough to catch a program, a face, a piece of dialogue exchanged. (A man staring up as Konstantin stares right back through Wynonna's wet eyes, and a gun pressed to his forehead, her finger against the trigger. Another man — two men, one burned almost beyond recognition of being a man at all, held by the other. Curse, that man says, uses that word, break the curse, and... just who is she?)
Konstantin jumps a little, like a shudder, just enough to rattle himself in a way he's not used to. The creature writhes unhappily again, and almost by instinct he steps a little away from her, tries to make it seem natural, like he's just adjusting his position by the fire. He clears his throat, one hand going up to the ledge of the mantel, fingers curling around it as he looks into the dancing flames. He doesn't like seeing people in pain; it shakes him in a weird, deep way. Maybe because of all his own guilts, all of the people who have suffered at his own hands.
Concentrating on the words voiced aloud and not the upsetting ones in their heads is no easier, but Wynonna's immediate pushback against the idea of letting the guy go makes him smile, not with humour but something wry and understanding and he's ducking his head a little as though to hide it.
Yeah. Yeah, he gets it. Maybe it is selfish. But is that so bad? Is it so wrong? If this is love, really truly is love, then does wanting to keep it no matter what cheapen anything? Lessen anything? Maybe some people are capable of that... sensitive type of softness, the kind that would give up something they wanted, that would let go. And maybe there's people like him, and her, because even though he may not flash a pair of fangs as sharply as Wynonna, maybe he hides his own beneath a bright smile, but he's just as vicious about what he wants. He'll fight for it. Dig in and hold on tight. You're the real monster, Tanya told him once. ]
...You know, I've always done whatever it took to get what I wanted. I mean that. I suppose some people may say that's relentless, or self-centered, and they're probably right. But we only have one life to live. We're here and then that's it.
[ He looks back up and over at her too, movements slow, because the thing's still agitated. It's warmed from the fire now, and he's stopped moving around, so its discomfort must be because of her. ...It should ultimately be fine! It's just not used to her! ]
So I think it's bullshit, actually. Giving something up as a mark of true love. And if it's going to be difficult either way, might as well choose the option that means you get what you want.
[ It's objectively selfish for him to be close to anyone that way at all. The thing's an unknown; it could kill Vasiliy any night. It could fucking kill him. All these months living under that man's roof, and Konstantin has known and worried about this, and still he hasn't left. Because he's already made his decision too, really, up under the fears and uncertainties about the shape of everything, how to label it. He's keeping what he wants. ]
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Konstantin jumps a little, like a shudder, just enough to rattle himself in a way he's not used to. The creature writhes unhappily again, and almost by instinct he steps a little away from her, tries to make it seem natural, like he's just adjusting his position by the fire. He clears his throat, one hand going up to the ledge of the mantel, fingers curling around it as he looks into the dancing flames. He doesn't like seeing people in pain; it shakes him in a weird, deep way. Maybe because of all his own guilts, all of the people who have suffered at his own hands.
Concentrating on the words voiced aloud and not the upsetting ones in their heads is no easier, but Wynonna's immediate pushback against the idea of letting the guy go makes him smile, not with humour but something wry and understanding and he's ducking his head a little as though to hide it.
Yeah. Yeah, he gets it. Maybe it is selfish. But is that so bad? Is it so wrong? If this is love, really truly is love, then does wanting to keep it no matter what cheapen anything? Lessen anything? Maybe some people are capable of that... sensitive type of softness, the kind that would give up something they wanted, that would let go. And maybe there's people like him, and her, because even though he may not flash a pair of fangs as sharply as Wynonna, maybe he hides his own beneath a bright smile, but he's just as vicious about what he wants. He'll fight for it. Dig in and hold on tight. You're the real monster, Tanya told him once. ]
...You know, I've always done whatever it took to get what I wanted. I mean that. I suppose some people may say that's relentless, or self-centered, and they're probably right. But we only have one life to live. We're here and then that's it.
[ He looks back up and over at her too, movements slow, because the thing's still agitated. It's warmed from the fire now, and he's stopped moving around, so its discomfort must be because of her. ...It should ultimately be fine! It's just not used to her! ]
So I think it's bullshit, actually. Giving something up as a mark of true love. And if it's going to be difficult either way, might as well choose the option that means you get what you want.
[ It's objectively selfish for him to be close to anyone that way at all. The thing's an unknown; it could kill Vasiliy any night. It could fucking kill him. All these months living under that man's roof, and Konstantin has known and worried about this, and still he hasn't left. Because he's already made his decision too, really, up under the fears and uncertainties about the shape of everything, how to label it. He's keeping what he wants. ]