Twice. Yeah. Too many times for my liking. It has to stop sometime. I don't want it using me anymore, using me to hurt people. To kill them. I- You know I don't want anyone to die. [ I hate this story. It's not anything I'd ever write. I write crime novels, but I'd never kill anyone.
His own gaze turns downward as his guilt rises. ] I don't know if I ever asked you. How do you deal with it? The guilt. The responsibility. Knowing it's your fault. I know what I'd do.
[ I'd run myself into the ground trying to fix it. Trying to fix what I did. Trying to get people to see that I'm trying to do something. But it's never enough, is it? It doesn't feel like enough. How much do you have to give until people believe you're doing everything you can to make up for your screw-ups?
At least I think I got a few points in with the FBC, but- What about everyone else? Saga? Her family? ]
I'm trying to fix it. I'm trying to make it better. But even I can see that it looks like I'm not doing anything. Maybe some people even think I'm just letting it get worse. Letting the Dark Presence in on purpose. I'm not. I wouldn't.
[ I'm not a bad person. I'm not trying to hurt people.
His agitation is growing again as his doubts and fears start to rise. A look of horror settles into his eyes at the mere thought of another artist, unsuspecting or otherwise, coming to the lake. ]
This can't happen again. There has to be something we can do. [ He can't help the feeling of horror, of being haunted by the thought of another person being dragged into this hell. ]
If only there was a way to limit it. To keep anyone else from being dragged in. [ He rolls his eyes at himself. ]
I know it's not like that. It doesn't affect just one person at a time. That would be too easy.
[ God, I hate this. I hate how this has a ripple effect, growing bigger and bigger until it's too late to catch up. What if I'm too late? ]
I want that: I want to come to your apartment and just be there. Writing. Editing. Whatever. I want to be there with you.
[ I want to be anywhere but here. But that's not going to happen anytime soon. I wish it could. It can't. ]
Let me just ask one more time. [ He rocks against her again, harder and faster. ] If you take everything away, if you take away the fact that we're two people with all the weirdness in the world- why do you love me? Would you feel the same if I couldn't reach you on the Hotline?
[ She keeps on talking, and he keeps on listening, and when she places his hands against the back of her bra, they stay there for a moment. But after another moment, his right hand slips back around to the front of her, and with just his fingertips, he ghosts them along her chest, moving downward in purposeful, slow motions. ]
I like the idea of just being us. Just you and me. [ He waits for her to kiss his cheek, and then he returns the kiss by pressing his lips against hers. ]
I remember. They're awake. I'm awake. [ He kisses her again, deeper this time, if that's possible. ]
But... you could just talk. Just talk, and I'd listen. I'll always listen.
[ If I'm awake, I'll always listen to her. And maybe if I'm not awake, I'll still find a way to hear her. ]
no subject
His own gaze turns downward as his guilt rises. ] I don't know if I ever asked you. How do you deal with it? The guilt. The responsibility. Knowing it's your fault. I know what I'd do.
[ I'd run myself into the ground trying to fix it. Trying to fix what I did. Trying to get people to see that I'm trying to do something. But it's never enough, is it? It doesn't feel like enough. How much do you have to give until people believe you're doing everything you can to make up for your screw-ups?
At least I think I got a few points in with the FBC, but- What about everyone else? Saga? Her family? ]
I'm trying to fix it. I'm trying to make it better. But even I can see that it looks like I'm not doing anything. Maybe some people even think I'm just letting it get worse. Letting the Dark Presence in on purpose. I'm not. I wouldn't.
[ I'm not a bad person. I'm not trying to hurt people.
His agitation is growing again as his doubts and fears start to rise. A look of horror settles into his eyes at the mere thought of another artist, unsuspecting or otherwise, coming to the lake. ]
This can't happen again. There has to be something we can do. [ He can't help the feeling of horror, of being haunted by the thought of another person being dragged into this hell. ]
If only there was a way to limit it. To keep anyone else from being dragged in. [ He rolls his eyes at himself. ]
I know it's not like that. It doesn't affect just one person at a time. That would be too easy.
[ God, I hate this. I hate how this has a ripple effect, growing bigger and bigger until it's too late to catch up. What if I'm too late? ]
I want that: I want to come to your apartment and just be there. Writing. Editing. Whatever. I want to be there with you.
[ I want to be anywhere but here. But that's not going to happen anytime soon. I wish it could. It can't. ]
Let me just ask one more time. [ He rocks against her again, harder and faster. ] If you take everything away, if you take away the fact that we're two people with all the weirdness in the world- why do you love me? Would you feel the same if I couldn't reach you on the Hotline?
[ She keeps on talking, and he keeps on listening, and when she places his hands against the back of her bra, they stay there for a moment. But after another moment, his right hand slips back around to the front of her, and with just his fingertips, he ghosts them along her chest, moving downward in purposeful, slow motions. ]
I like the idea of just being us. Just you and me. [ He waits for her to kiss his cheek, and then he returns the kiss by pressing his lips against hers. ]
I remember. They're awake. I'm awake. [ He kisses her again, deeper this time, if that's possible. ]
But... you could just talk. Just talk, and I'd listen. I'll always listen.
[ If I'm awake, I'll always listen to her. And maybe if I'm not awake, I'll still find a way to hear her. ]