❝ I don't want to be at the ｍｅｒｃｙ of my emotions. I want to [ use ] them, to enjoy them, and to D O M I N A T E them. ❞
Injury II [Starter Sentences]
“I know."
Tell her what she wants to hear—what she needs to.
His breaths are growing more uneven, and he fights the urge to gasp even when it becomes harder to speak. The silence comes after a while, he watches, blinking slowly as her lips move but he make out the words.
He guesses they’re demands, frantic—worried, all of the emotions he wants to apologize for. But her image is fading with his breath, her face becoming blurred in his vision until he manages to weakly pick up a hand, cupping her cheek as his arm shakes with the effort.
There’s a thin layer of blood between his hand and her cheek, one that leaves streaks on her face where his fingers are as he struggles to keep his hand up. For a moment he thinks about the last words he wants to say—how they’ll slip over his tongue gurgled and if they’ll actually have any meaning.
Mother used to say the more you say something—the more you do anything on repeat it begins to wear away at the true definition. With her, it was how father said dearest wife, with an edge that seemed to cut through the air every night at dinner so that even Zuko could tell the meaning was not the same as he had learned.
I love you, I love you, I love you.
He says nothing, only thinks it—-flinching as the pain spikes for a few seconds, leaving him with a gasp and a trickle of blood that seeps from the corner of his mouth.
His hand falls, and everything goes black.
