[Her words should infuriate him. They should set his teeth on edge, make his body tense; he recalls the feeling of his shattered wrists and fingers once the initial shock wore off. He should be furious. He should hate her.
[He feels grief instead. For once, he can't keep the emotion off his face. It's only there for a split second - not the expression of someone who's been stabbed or punch; it's a man at the pulpit of a funeral he never got to attend. He can still see Reiner in his mind, leaving, leaving, always leaving.
[Does he really not understand why she didn't tell him? Of course he does.
[And he won't make her the same promise. He's at a loss for words. He downs his drink. It feels weak. He fills it again. Downs it again. Fills it again. Holds it.
[She's right. The silence is unbearable, even with the cacophony of shadows, chattering all around them with no words.]
no subject
[He feels grief instead. For once, he can't keep the emotion off his face. It's only there for a split second - not the expression of someone who's been stabbed or punch; it's a man at the pulpit of a funeral he never got to attend. He can still see Reiner in his mind, leaving, leaving, always leaving.
[Does he really not understand why she didn't tell him? Of course he does.
[And he won't make her the same promise. He's at a loss for words. He downs his drink. It feels weak. He fills it again. Downs it again. Fills it again. Holds it.
[She's right. The silence is unbearable, even with the cacophony of shadows, chattering all around them with no words.]
You talked to him.
Right?