[ He says it so easily, like he's talking about the act of cooking a meal or taking a shower, not the cessation of his own life. Then again, maybe dying to him is is as easy as taking a stroll through the park. Dokja's certainly done it often enough in the past for it to become something almost routine.
But the scars his death always leaves behind aren't usual or expected. Eustace thinks of Gen and the way one sleeve had hung empty for too long. He thinks about the worry he'd seen reflected in Gray's eyes when she'd quietly told him about the events he'd missed. He thinks about the discomfort in his chest, writhing and expanding until it feels like it's about to burst past the confines of his skin.
Death is never that easy.
It's his turn to look away now, to fix his gaze on a speck of nothingness on the wall directly across him. Again he speaks, and again his voice is low. Quiet. ]
How can you be so sure you'll come back?
[ If there's anything he's learned over the years, it's to not take anything for granted, especially in this unpredictable and fickle place. Things that might have held true one day might no longer follow the same rules the next. Things he had imagined to be impossible once are things of the every day here.
He doesn't want to imagine the possibility of Dokja not coming back, but better to confront that now than to be caught awares later, a second gaping hole in his heart the only evidence that someone had ever been there to begin with. ]
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But the scars his death always leaves behind aren't usual or expected. Eustace thinks of Gen and the way one sleeve had hung empty for too long. He thinks about the worry he'd seen reflected in Gray's eyes when she'd quietly told him about the events he'd missed. He thinks about the discomfort in his chest, writhing and expanding until it feels like it's about to burst past the confines of his skin.
Death is never that easy.
It's his turn to look away now, to fix his gaze on a speck of nothingness on the wall directly across him. Again he speaks, and again his voice is low. Quiet. ]
How can you be so sure you'll come back?
[ If there's anything he's learned over the years, it's to not take anything for granted, especially in this unpredictable and fickle place. Things that might have held true one day might no longer follow the same rules the next. Things he had imagined to be impossible once are things of the every day here.
He doesn't want to imagine the possibility of Dokja not coming back, but better to confront that now than to be caught awares later, a second gaping hole in his heart the only evidence that someone had ever been there to begin with. ]