[ How many people have tried to help him now? Dokja's quickly losing count and the more he thinks about it, the more he doesn't understand.
But maybe he wants to.
So caught up is he in his suffocating guilt, that he hasn't had the proper moment to step back and assess the connections that he's made. It had made certain things easier that way, and he'd been able to turn his face away from the loss of people he'd grown to care for as they'd disappeared one by one. He'd shuttered the windows of his heart, devastation carefully packed away and compartmentalized into another part of him that he wouldn't revisit, and that had been that. Selfishly, subconsciously, he had thought the world and people around him were ever-moving, while Dokja remained the same.
He can't continue on like this, is the slow realization as Eustace's words sink in. He has... people... that he cares about here. People that... care about him in return.
As hard as that is to believe.
There's no response from Dokja's end, but a hesitant acknowledgement passes through the connection they share. He wants Eustace to know, as much as he can't use his words right now, that it's there. Quiet, stifled, and present. He won't reach out in return just yet, fingers curling and uncurling as he works to undo the thousands upon thousands of years of damage dealt to his mind, but it's better than a refusal. Better than his usual method of pushing away.
And with that muted acknowledgement comes an end to their Communion. ]
no subject
But maybe he wants to.
So caught up is he in his suffocating guilt, that he hasn't had the proper moment to step back and assess the connections that he's made. It had made certain things easier that way, and he'd been able to turn his face away from the loss of people he'd grown to care for as they'd disappeared one by one. He'd shuttered the windows of his heart, devastation carefully packed away and compartmentalized into another part of him that he wouldn't revisit, and that had been that. Selfishly, subconsciously, he had thought the world and people around him were ever-moving, while Dokja remained the same.
He can't continue on like this, is the slow realization as Eustace's words sink in. He has... people... that he cares about here. People that... care about him in return.
As hard as that is to believe.
There's no response from Dokja's end, but a hesitant acknowledgement passes through the connection they share. He wants Eustace to know, as much as he can't use his words right now, that it's there. Quiet, stifled, and present. He won't reach out in return just yet, fingers curling and uncurling as he works to undo the thousands upon thousands of years of damage dealt to his mind, but it's better than a refusal. Better than his usual method of pushing away.
And with that muted acknowledgement comes an end to their Communion. ]