( felix doesn't let people touch the back of his neck. he warned crais off it, flinched from sam like he'd been hit when he brushed it lightly, on accident. but he lets ephemera do it. repeatedly. over and over, still as stone as his palm settles across his nape, protecting his implant. that'd be a fucked up way to go, he thinks idly.
his heart is in his ears, pounding rhythmically. drowning everything out. )
He couldn't. I'm good at what I do, and I didn't want him to see me.
( for the best. for his own good, to protect him. ortez had his back. ortez was his eyes from up high. he let him have that: control, and felix's mouth, and felix's body, and everything still whole left inside him, but he couldn't have all of him, not without fracturing and splitting into fragments. not without burning himself alive. he wishes he'd killed him. it's a bitter, vicious thought. better than leaving him like this. he misses him, like a phantom limb, like a heartbeat. he wishes he'd killed him.
he leans into the pressure of ephemera's hand and curls his fingers around his wrist, guiding him to his neck. his fingers flex down to his hand, forking ephemera's thumb against the mark on his throat. the one he'd left with his teeth. )
You should go.
( not i anymore. this time it's a warning. leave. )
no subject
his heart is in his ears, pounding rhythmically. drowning everything out. )
He couldn't. I'm good at what I do, and I didn't want him to see me.
( for the best. for his own good, to protect him. ortez had his back. ortez was his eyes from up high. he let him have that: control, and felix's mouth, and felix's body, and everything still whole left inside him, but he couldn't have all of him, not without fracturing and splitting into fragments. not without burning himself alive. he wishes he'd killed him. it's a bitter, vicious thought. better than leaving him like this. he misses him, like a phantom limb, like a heartbeat. he wishes he'd killed him.
he leans into the pressure of ephemera's hand and curls his fingers around his wrist, guiding him to his neck. his fingers flex down to his hand, forking ephemera's thumb against the mark on his throat. the one he'd left with his teeth. )
You should go.
( not i anymore. this time it's a warning. leave. )