constellationprize | [imeeji] INBOX

I'm sorry.

W-Why - why would you be angry with yourself? You didn't - ... even more than anyone else, you didn't do anything - ... and I -

- I followed him, and I let him - ... I asked him to help me, so it's my fault, isn't it...? He ... he gave me the chance to leave, too, so it's...

Neither of you did anything - Luci...

During the entire time that you were with him, that Avenger was with him - I was sleeping away like a baby. Moreover, if I wasn't the person I am, or if I hadn't had such a past, such a person wouldn't have come after you in the first place.

I -

[ she can't quite cobble together a proper retort so instead she blurts out ]

... - I'm coming over, okay?

Dia-sama, don't force yourself.

[ if she was thinking clearly enough to recall the hypnosis, she wouldn't risk it regardless of feeling the effect having faded, but, well.

you know.

so she's hanging up. a few minutes later there's a knock on sensitIV's dorm door? ]

[ . . .

going to the door, but without opening it: ]

Dia-sama.

It's me . . . I -

Please let me in...

[ . . . opening up the door, then ]

I told you, you don't need to push yourself . . .

I -

[ propped up against the doorframe as she catches her breath, just at a glance it's clear she's unwell; her hair is disheveled within its nighttime braid (regardless of what time of day it is actually), eyes a bit sunken - the long nightgown she's wearing doesn't betray anything else amiss, but she notably appears to have forgotten her shoes in her panic to get here.

and seeing him, of course, she goes entirely stiff. it's lucifel, she knows, it must be, but the sight of his face dredges up memories of those days deftly, unbidden, ghosts sharp pain at her eyelids down to her chest and abdomen, her ankles and wrists, her core, her throat

her throat,

feels, again, for reasons she's unable to understand, oddly tight, as if she's holding her breath.

but she smiles at him, brittle, dampened further still by the thin sheen of sweat forming at her brow. ]

- I'm . . . I'm okay, aren't I? So - you don't need to worry...

[ his eyes narrow as he inspects her - every detail certainly caught, or at least that's how it might seem with how thoroughly he looks her over - and his jaw sets, a tension running through his body ]

. . . Mmm, you aren't. I'm sorry, but I'm going to continue worrying.

I'm -

[ s

shuts her eyes. ]

I'm sorry ... But - beyond that, Luci, I'm worried about you . . .

Is it okay for me to come in...?

Edited 2019-12-28 20:48 (UTC)

. . . If I said no, then what would you do?

. . . You don't want me to?

I do. But, wanting to let you come in isn't the same as saying, "it's okay".

. . . Because, you're not okay. And, being around this face - it will only make things worse.

Edited 2019-12-28 21:04 (UTC)

I'm ...

[ no, she can't say she's fine. she is, she thinks, she wants to be, but if it'll hurt him to hear - she recalls now he said as much - she can't say it. ]

Then . . . can you come here...?

[ closing the door behind himself to step out to her, then ]

[ reaching to wrap her arms around him in a loose hug, trying to pull him close ]

[ stepping closer - she can smell the scent of lilies - and wrapping his own arms around her in a firm hug ]

[ there it is.

She didn't have any doubt in her mind as to who he was, but that - confirming it so absolutely, with the one thing he couldn't recreate or emulate,

There was so much more she had to say, so many concerns lingering still at the sight of him - her pain, the ghost of that alien resentment

But every bit of it melts away to nothing beneath that scent, beneath that realization, and

Trembling, she bursts into tears, fingers curling tightly behind his back ]

[ at this rate dia and doodle are going to end up having scent fetishes

smoothly, almost as though he'd anticipated something like this, he's rubbing against her back, quietly, patiently. there, there ]

[ too late,

she breathes him in deeply - in as much as it calms her to know he's here, as cathartic as the cry will likely feel in the long run it - her sobs, his hand so firm at her back - stirs up everything else like so much deep sea sediment and she can't really stop herself from shaking, from crying more,

why did she come here? Foreign as it feels to her now the memory of that hatred sticks too sharply in her chest, calls bile up from her gut. Can she

Does she even deserve to be his wife, to be anyone's witch, after feeling something that violently?

In the moment as the worst of the crying begins to subside, she can only feel the answer to be no, but she slumps against him underfed, exhausted and dehydrated from her fit and a lack of sleep, too weak to pull herself from his arms,

and so she murmurs apologies into his shoulder with each cry, progressively weaker, until her tears run entirely dry ]

[ "does she even deserve to be his wife"

dia.

he's still for her, supporting her, and when she slumps he takes a moment before bending somewhat to pick her up, arm under her thighs to support her ]

[ (dia voice) she had BAD FEELINGS so she's BAD and he can't have a BAD WIFE,

Per usual she's not especially difficult to pick up or to carry, clinging to him as he holds her ]

[ dumbest wife in the world

working his phone out to open sensitIV's door once he's got her securely, stepping into the dorm - naturally he's careful to keep her head from knocking against the doorway ]

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