the tighter grip doesn't bother him, really, mostly because he looks up and sees the source. he's starting to wish he had wenzhou's gun again so he could blast it but, it's too late.
this memory helps to explain a lot of context, but worse than that, it's familiar. it's the exact sort of thing that fei chengyu might have done in the same situation. don't stray from the path anymore is worse, than the memory before it. it's worse because it's so familiar. it's worse because he remembers d's execution, remembers their talk of the preciousness of life. it's worse, to understand how it feels to be strapped with a burden you never asked for, expected to carry out the weight of a sword you don't want to swing. it's worse because it is so intimately familiar that it's not the blood in the memory that makes fei du feel sick.
he exhales out when it's faded away, short, and sharp, and for a moment, his expression is inscrutable - like he's filing away all the little details of that memory, dissecting it piece by piece to understand it fully.
also, kinda gay that you jumped off a roof holding hands with your detective buddy but he won't say that. ]
... a duty. [ he repeats, after a moment, softly. ] I see.
no subject
the tighter grip doesn't bother him, really, mostly because he looks up and sees the source. he's starting to wish he had wenzhou's gun again so he could blast it but, it's too late.
this memory helps to explain a lot of context, but worse than that, it's familiar. it's the exact sort of thing that fei chengyu might have done in the same situation. don't stray from the path anymore is worse, than the memory before it. it's worse because it's so familiar. it's worse because he remembers d's execution, remembers their talk of the preciousness of life. it's worse, to understand how it feels to be strapped with a burden you never asked for, expected to carry out the weight of a sword you don't want to swing. it's worse because it is so intimately familiar that it's not the blood in the memory that makes fei du feel sick.
he exhales out when it's faded away, short, and sharp, and for a moment, his expression is inscrutable - like he's filing away all the little details of that memory, dissecting it piece by piece to understand it fully.
also, kinda gay that you jumped off a roof holding hands with your detective buddy but he won't say that. ]
... a duty. [ he repeats, after a moment, softly. ] I see.