He wishes he could swallow the words as soon as he says them. Wishes that he could pretend he had never said them at all—not because they are not true but because he knows how selfish it is to voice them. How selfish it is to give voice to the fears that take root in him and force her to bear the burden of them too. So he shuts his mouth quickly, swallowing any more regrets the may bubble to the surface and he chokes on them. He leans into her touch too and lets the silence stretch between them—
until it snaps.
He feels the storm of her emotions brew and then collide around them. Feels it rise up and then crest the barricading wall before it crashes down once more. And when it does, he knows it could break her. So he doesn’t move and doesn’t leave, even when she turns away. He just breathes out and in again, draping his head over her and letting the steadiness of his dark heart beat against her—quiet and slow and there.
There is a soft noice that begins in the back of his throat, and one that he has never heard before. He murmurs it slowly and does not stop. He continues to make it as he holds her while she rides through every ounce of her sorrow and disgust—as she comes to terms with everything that she has done and, more importantly, been done to and through her. For the first time in his life, Firion remains. He does not run. Does not pretend. Does not leave because it is difficult or because it feels too real, too raw.
He just holds her as the sobs rack though her body and he sends a blanket of warmth over her as the bite of the air becomes too harsh. The gentle glow of him casts a golden light over the flames of her and by it, he can see the curves of her from where she has not completely twisted away from him.
And when he finally does say something, he doesn’t lie.
He doesn’t tell her that it’s okay or she’s fine.
He just holds her a little tighter, his voice a rough whisper.
“I’m here, Maze. I’m here.”
so as our grief falls flat and hollow upon a billion blooded seas
all our worst ideas are borrowed (you do and don't belong to me)