[ dextera lets his hand hover over the words he’s already written. the pause is heavy, weighed down by all the things that his lacking voice won’t let him say, but there’s only one real answer when he trims the fat away from hemming and hawing and attempting to be polite.
he looks up at makoto; his eyes are momentarily focused in a way they haven’t been, seeking something that he can’t explain. perhaps, doing it on someone else’s behalf.
then, his decision made, he sweeps away the words with a cool hand, and replaces the modest request with something new. ]
I can
[ he doesn’t consider it a threat. he isn’t even looking at makoto once he finishes writing it. it’s just a burden on his shoulders to think that he has this power—and although he hasn’t tried to use it here, preferring not to test that part of himself, he’s aware nonetheless of his role and what his body is for.
no subject
[ dextera lets his hand hover over the words he’s already written. the pause is heavy, weighed down by all the things that his lacking voice won’t let him say, but there’s only one real answer when he trims the fat away from hemming and hawing and attempting to be polite.
he looks up at makoto; his eyes are momentarily focused in a way they haven’t been, seeking something that he can’t explain. perhaps, doing it on someone else’s behalf.
then, his decision made, he sweeps away the words with a cool hand, and replaces the modest request with something new. ]
I can
[ he doesn’t consider it a threat. he isn’t even looking at makoto once he finishes writing it. it’s just a burden on his shoulders to think that he has this power—and although he hasn’t tried to use it here, preferring not to test that part of himself, he’s aware nonetheless of his role and what his body is for.
he stands and brushes away the dirt. ]