Perhaps it was the suddenness of the action, but Florian's eyes welled up again. He turned his face and rested his head against Eitan's chest. What resulted was a quiet sort of crying, but with enough tears for him to feel them on his skin. Florian did not know what he felt. He didn't know what he was supposed to have felt. He couldn't tell if it were sadness, or relief, or confusion. Compassion was rarely encountered. The world watched him with anger and fear, and he mirrored it. Florian knew he was going to die. He had long ago decided he was destined for greatness. He wished for the latter to come to fruition long before the first. Neither kindness nor kinship had ever been in his future, and yet here he was, allowing himself to be held in someone's arms.
Why was this his response? Why is he being kind?
Florian was, naturally, reluctant to hurt someone who had shown him such compassion. He shifted uncomfortably at the request, but he did not remove himself from Eitan's arms. A deep breath, two, three deep breaths and he had felt himself composed enough to have some semblance of control over how much aether he shocked the man with. Men had survived lightning bolts before, and Florian was not a lightning bolt. Not yet.
"Sorry." He mumbled a second apology, not for his tears but for the incoming pain. He released the aether in all its explosive glory, the static sparks bouncing and hitting Angevin. It wasn't strong enough to cause damage, Florian had tried his best to make sure of it. It was strong enough to hurt. It also lasted only a second, a bright, painful second. At least Florian himself didn't feel the shocks.
Was it the fate of the Lysanrin to fear and be feared until there were none of them left? Sometimes he wished to give people a reason to fear him. If Angevin feared him, he didn't show it, and he was just as confused at the unabashed empathy as he was at the lack of fear. Perhaps Eitan knew that he was just as able to protect himself from Florian as anything, and he drew strength from being in control. Perhaps he feared, and he buried it, in the effort to both give and earn trust.
"Do you always insist on knowing what pain you inflict feels like yourself?"
Why was this his response? Why is he being kind?
Florian was, naturally, reluctant to hurt someone who had shown him such compassion. He shifted uncomfortably at the request, but he did not remove himself from Eitan's arms. A deep breath, two, three deep breaths and he had felt himself composed enough to have some semblance of control over how much aether he shocked the man with. Men had survived lightning bolts before, and Florian was not a lightning bolt. Not yet.
"Sorry." He mumbled a second apology, not for his tears but for the incoming pain. He released the aether in all its explosive glory, the static sparks bouncing and hitting Angevin. It wasn't strong enough to cause damage, Florian had tried his best to make sure of it. It was strong enough to hurt. It also lasted only a second, a bright, painful second. At least Florian himself didn't feel the shocks.
Was it the fate of the Lysanrin to fear and be feared until there were none of them left? Sometimes he wished to give people a reason to fear him. If Angevin feared him, he didn't show it, and he was just as confused at the unabashed empathy as he was at the lack of fear. Perhaps Eitan knew that he was just as able to protect himself from Florian as anything, and he drew strength from being in control. Perhaps he feared, and he buried it, in the effort to both give and earn trust.
"Do you always insist on knowing what pain you inflict feels like yourself?"
