( he doesn't know. he knows a little, portions of it that make sense in the chaos. the solid comfort of ephemera's body on top of him, and his calluses rough on his bare skin, tracking sensitive scars. his tongue in his mouth. his teeth down his throat. in the moment, he wanted it.
and he wanted it later when it was all over, standing in a steaming hot shower after putting his fucking fist into a ceramic tile wall, blood circling the drain.
he turns his head, lightly pressing his cheek to his back. )
Couldn't tell you. Kind of want you a little bit. Kind of hate you a little bit, too.
( half the problem. felix doesn't hate anyone. that requires energy and the ability to give an ounce of a fuck, and he hates ephemera a little bit but only a little bit. not as much as he should or shouldn't. he hates the quiet that comes rushing in alongside him, the swelling tide that sweeps him off his feet. he hates that he didn't goddamn kill him in that hallway or in the arena. he hates that he didn't stop this while there was a chance for the both of them to walk away unscathed.
he hates that he doesn't realize how badly he's fucked himself even now. felix leans away and pats his shoulder amiably, stepping back out of reach. )
One day you're probably gonna put me down. Like, 98% chance. Sort of a looming inevitability at this point. I just want you to know it's all good. I won't hold it against you, or come after Drake in the aftermath. We'll be square. You gotta do what you gotta do, you know? ( as matter-of-fact and monotonous as someone making dinner plans with an old friend, turning on his heel and digging in his pocket for his cigarettes. then, without missing a beat, he continues: ) Strip down your HUD when you get a chance. Might as well see where it gets you.
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and he wanted it later when it was all over, standing in a steaming hot shower after putting his fucking fist into a ceramic tile wall, blood circling the drain.
he turns his head, lightly pressing his cheek to his back. )
Couldn't tell you. Kind of want you a little bit. Kind of hate you a little bit, too.
( half the problem. felix doesn't hate anyone. that requires energy and the ability to give an ounce of a fuck, and he hates ephemera a little bit but only a little bit. not as much as he should or shouldn't. he hates the quiet that comes rushing in alongside him, the swelling tide that sweeps him off his feet. he hates that he didn't goddamn kill him in that hallway or in the arena. he hates that he didn't stop this while there was a chance for the both of them to walk away unscathed.
he hates that he doesn't realize how badly he's fucked himself even now. felix leans away and pats his shoulder amiably, stepping back out of reach. )
One day you're probably gonna put me down. Like, 98% chance. Sort of a looming inevitability at this point. I just want you to know it's all good. I won't hold it against you, or come after Drake in the aftermath. We'll be square. You gotta do what you gotta do, you know? ( as matter-of-fact and monotonous as someone making dinner plans with an old friend, turning on his heel and digging in his pocket for his cigarettes. then, without missing a beat, he continues: ) Strip down your HUD when you get a chance. Might as well see where it gets you.