Even with all of the negative emotions that take control of Lloyd's mind, that lead him down a slide into the freezing waters of dread and leave him with a desperate need to keep distance, a part of Lloyd wants to pull Anna into a hug and comfort her, the same kind of hug they had only last night, when she first met him.
(Rather, when he first met her. She knows her own Lloyd, but Lloyd only has fleeting touches to remember his own Anna with.)
But what kind of comfort could Lloyd really offer? He's wrestling with his own thoughts, the same thoughts that keep his words trapped in his throat, that snicker and prod at him, at his weak walls and the threadbare armor he's strapped around his heart. He hates this situation, hates the fact that he was caught, hates himself for being so fucking terrible at putting up masks and saving others the trouble of dealing with his own shattered self.
It's not Anna's fault her son is a burden. It's not her fault.
But.
Past the accepting sadness, past the grief and the pain, anger rushes back into his blood, eating at the shadows that linger in his mind, and Lloyd reaches out to it, the fury familiar and reliable. He doesn't lash out - would not be able to lash out at his mother, just like he was truly never able to lash out at his father, never let him know exactly what he thought, because. Lloyd understands. It's easier to not face the failure he is rather than live with him.
But the anger is what allows Lloyd to stand straight, what allows him to swallow back the bitter taste in his mouth and keep his face mostly blank. Because he understands why his parents never wanted him, but it's fucking cruel that he has to keep facing them, that he has to meet them and re-meet them and watch them leave again and again. If he's not going to be given parents that love him, is the constant taunting necessary?
Anna speaks, and Lloyd feels guilt leak into his anger, slowly turning it from anger at the situations he lands in into anger at himself. Really, he shouldn't be this affected, knew from the start this isn't his mother, that - well, even if she was, who's to say she would have wanted to stick around? And she's got points, reasons to not stick with her son. He'd slow her down, he'd keep her in an unsafe position.
But, by Goddesses does it hurt.
He averts his eyes. Licks at his lips, ignoring the way the dried blood on his lip tastes metallic on his tongue, and opens his mouth.
"No, it's fine. I get it. I don't blame you, either," and he laughs, bitter and low. The stars shine bright tonight. "I've known for a while that I held you guys back.
[LLOYD VOICE] THIS IS FINE
(Rather, when he first met her. She knows her own Lloyd, but Lloyd only has fleeting touches to remember his own Anna with.)
But what kind of comfort could Lloyd really offer? He's wrestling with his own thoughts, the same thoughts that keep his words trapped in his throat, that snicker and prod at him, at his weak walls and the threadbare armor he's strapped around his heart. He hates this situation, hates the fact that he was caught, hates himself for being so fucking terrible at putting up masks and saving others the trouble of dealing with his own shattered self.
It's not Anna's fault her son is a burden. It's not her fault.
But.
Past the accepting sadness, past the grief and the pain, anger rushes back into his blood, eating at the shadows that linger in his mind, and Lloyd reaches out to it, the fury familiar and reliable. He doesn't lash out - would not be able to lash out at his mother, just like he was truly never able to lash out at his father, never let him know exactly what he thought, because. Lloyd understands. It's easier to not face the failure he is rather than live with him.
But the anger is what allows Lloyd to stand straight, what allows him to swallow back the bitter taste in his mouth and keep his face mostly blank. Because he understands why his parents never wanted him, but it's fucking cruel that he has to keep facing them, that he has to meet them and re-meet them and watch them leave again and again. If he's not going to be given parents that love him, is the constant taunting necessary?
Anna speaks, and Lloyd feels guilt leak into his anger, slowly turning it from anger at the situations he lands in into anger at himself. Really, he shouldn't be this affected, knew from the start this isn't his mother, that - well, even if she was, who's to say she would have wanted to stick around? And she's got points, reasons to not stick with her son. He'd slow her down, he'd keep her in an unsafe position.
But, by Goddesses does it hurt.
He averts his eyes. Licks at his lips, ignoring the way the dried blood on his lip tastes metallic on his tongue, and opens his mouth.
"No, it's fine. I get it. I don't blame you, either," and he laughs, bitter and low. The stars shine bright tonight. "I've known for a while that I held you guys back.