But at the same time, he wanted her to hear it, selfish as it may be. And foolish it may be.
She refused him, rejected him, didn't listen to him no matter how many times he tried to tell her the truth. She didn't follow him and until the very end she didn't take his hand. And so, like her, for all those years he believed she really did stopped loving him. Made him question and doubt if she ever loved or cared for him at all. And he would have continued to believe it until his own death were it not for that one singular proof that is currently hanging around her neck even now.
But in those years, he did doubt, question, tried to forget—but he really couldn't. They lessened, surely, but they would spark up again like a curse, especially whenever he caught wind of her movements or they happened to meet—and each encounter ending worse than the last. And each time it would just leave that large, vacant hole that could never be filled no matter how hard he tried to the point that he stopped trying. The only people he could love from then on was Mid, who understandably took up most of it, and the friends and companions he gathered.
And really... This may be the first time he's even consciously thinking or voicing it as well. Realizing how much he did miss her now that he has her back like this—even if she still threatens to fly away at any given chance.
So he wasn't sure how she'd react. He felt her stiffen and he half expected her to even pull away in resentment. Thus the kiss and her words surprise him a bit—and sting a little since it's true, he's done a poor job.]
no subject
Almost.
But at the same time, he wanted her to hear it, selfish as it may be. And foolish it may be.
She refused him, rejected him, didn't listen to him no matter how many times he tried to tell her the truth. She didn't follow him and until the very end she didn't take his hand. And so, like her, for all those years he believed she really did stopped loving him. Made him question and doubt if she ever loved or cared for him at all. And he would have continued to believe it until his own death were it not for that one singular proof that is currently hanging around her neck even now.
But in those years, he did doubt, question, tried to forget—but he really couldn't. They lessened, surely, but they would spark up again like a curse, especially whenever he caught wind of her movements or they happened to meet—and each encounter ending worse than the last. And each time it would just leave that large, vacant hole that could never be filled no matter how hard he tried to the point that he stopped trying. The only people he could love from then on was Mid, who understandably took up most of it, and the friends and companions he gathered.
And really... This may be the first time he's even consciously thinking or voicing it as well. Realizing how much he did miss her now that he has her back like this—even if she still threatens to fly away at any given chance.
So he wasn't sure how she'd react. He felt her stiffen and he half expected her to even pull away in resentment. Thus the kiss and her words surprise him a bit—and sting a little since it's true, he's done a poor job.]
...Hope I've at least made up some of it.