[ badou would have cried through it too maybe they would have been buds.
heine had braced himself against the knife, waited for rin to go through the motions and the thoughts and held fast at the initial reaction of stepping back. it's not what he was here to teach.
he was rewriting instinct; no, that wasn't it because if that predominant reaction of bite or be bitten had not already been there, if he had not already seen it, he would have never conceded to start this damned routine.
smoke and blood. it's what he's made of more than flesh, and his breath is barely there, steady against the rabbit pace of rin's.
a momentary silence before he laughs, a catchbreath and it's somber, sedate but honest and he casts his eyes down. without realizing it, he finds the slender flower again, blinks at how the petals were now bent, folded, lost. they must have trampled it in their training. ] Yeah.
[ white fingers against whiter cloth around his neck, and red eyes scrape against rin's posture again, note how he loosens but it is in firmness of his decision.
good. ] You'll - ah - you'll do fine. [ said in the most sloppiest of appraisals ever, from someone unused to anything even marginally sentimental, human.
which is why, after all of this, he almost yawns. this was, whether obvious or not, good progress. it was proof that this wouldn't be a waste of time. more than that, for reasons why left unexplored, heine was almost content with accepting his unofficial position of teacher. it still felt broken, fragmented against the rest of him but...he didn't mind. ] Ah - I'm hungry.
no subject
heine had braced himself against the knife, waited for rin to go through the motions and the thoughts and held fast at the initial reaction of stepping back. it's not what he was here to teach.
he was rewriting instinct; no, that wasn't it because if that predominant reaction of bite or be bitten had not already been there, if he had not already seen it, he would have never conceded to start this damned routine.
smoke and blood. it's what he's made of more than flesh, and his breath is barely there, steady against the rabbit pace of rin's.
a momentary silence before he laughs, a catchbreath and it's somber, sedate but honest and he casts his eyes down. without realizing it, he finds the slender flower again, blinks at how the petals were now bent, folded, lost. they must have trampled it in their training. ] Yeah.
[ white fingers against whiter cloth around his neck, and red eyes scrape against rin's posture again, note how he loosens but it is in firmness of his decision.
good. ] You'll - ah - you'll do fine. [ said in the most sloppiest of appraisals ever, from someone unused to anything even marginally sentimental, human.
which is why, after all of this, he almost yawns. this was, whether obvious or not, good progress. it was proof that this wouldn't be a waste of time. more than that, for reasons why left unexplored, heine was almost content with accepting his unofficial position of teacher. it still felt broken, fragmented against the rest of him but...he didn't mind. ] Ah - I'm hungry.