presidentheartbeat: (God I wanna fucking murder you)
Zelos Wilder ([personal profile] presidentheartbeat) wrote in [personal profile] summonerd 2019-04-11 04:36 pm (UTC)

All of that terror, shame, and self-loathing trapped in a loop in Zelos' core as he fights tooth and nail to keep the emotional bleed in check grows larger the more that Anna speaks. Yet her words are so obviously gentle, something that's meant to comfort and understand, so foreign and yet familiar, and that combined with all the attention set on his little outburst makes Zelos slowly recoil back into himself, shoulders tense, expression hardened into a glare that hides vulnerability and embarrassment. He... has no idea how he let the situation get out of control this fast, but the fact that it has slipped out of his hands fills him with dread and a desperate desire to go back, go back, forget what just happened, what he just did, because--

He's stepped out of line, again. Zelos pushed at buttons he shouldn't have, endangered a blade just to prove a point, and made his travel companions suspicious. Bared his true feelings out for a dangerous second. He's singlehandedly burst that easygoing bubble he'd literally just said he was enjoying having spread over them all, brought back the tense and awkward mood from yesterday.

All he ever knows how to do is destroy.

Fucking... damn it.

Damn it, damn it, damn it. Fighting back the surge of animalistic fear at the consequences of his actions to keep the self-important and angry mask on is nearly impossible, but keep it Zelos does, and slowly but surely he manages to unfurl from his lowered stance. Breathe in, out. It's fine, he can control this still, he can do some damage control. It doesn't seem like Anna would want to punish him for speaking out of line, at least, just that she wants some answers. He should give her some answers. It's the least he can do.

Unfortunately for him, honesty was never even his forte, nor was trust ever something he could give away easily. Besides, it's much easier to fall back upon familiar habits than it is to step forth into the light.

So he snorts. A quick, breathy sound of finality as he flips his hair back, as he plasters a smile on his face. "You know what? It's fine. Doesn't matter, really," he says, brushing it all off like it's nothing, vice-grip on the emotional bleed steady and strong as he lightens his voice into something friendlier and much more placating, steady and determined in a way to portray an air of 'I will not be convinced to do otherwise' within his words. "Anyway, neither of you look up for staying up all night guarding the camp, so I'll take first watch."

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