[ Endure it... He's endured it for over twenty-thousand years, alone, on that subway with only his story to keep him going. If not for the Fourth Wall, he would have lost his mind. Or maybe he already has and he's fooling himself into thinking he's sane.
He doesn't feel sane. Not right now.
His wrist burns, nerves alight where Joonghyuk holds him and Dokja's entire body goes tense. Twenty-thousand years and he's still burdened by the scene of familiar, frightened eyes staring back at his own, his panicked desperation to find a sword, the way nothing had gone right, the decision to part ways with the people that he loves...
He swallows down the lump in his throat, runs the heel of the palm of his free hand over his wet eyes, and pointedly doesn't look back at the other man. It would be so easy to refuse, but no one knows Yoo Joonghyuk the way Dokja has learned to. He's not going to shake the regressor off that easily. ]
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He doesn't feel sane. Not right now.
His wrist burns, nerves alight where Joonghyuk holds him and Dokja's entire body goes tense. Twenty-thousand years and he's still burdened by the scene of familiar, frightened eyes staring back at his own, his panicked desperation to find a sword, the way nothing had gone right, the decision to part ways with the people that he loves...
He swallows down the lump in his throat, runs the heel of the palm of his free hand over his wet eyes, and pointedly doesn't look back at the other man. It would be so easy to refuse, but no one knows Yoo Joonghyuk the way Dokja has learned to. He's not going to shake the regressor off that easily. ]
... You can't ask me anything about the future.