We will see what happens, and if we don’t, Mr. Luo can explain when he arrives.
[He waits for a long moment still, and then he very carefully steps toward Fei Du, unafraid, since Fei Du won’t—can’t—come to him.
He lifts a hand up to see if Fei Du will allow him to touch his face. Carefully!]
See? You have it. Humanity. This is what it means to be human, Fei Du. All of it. To be angry, to be violent, to also hurt, to cry, to grieve when there is loss because there is no grief at all if there isn’t love. People who don’t love don’t grieve.
fei du has always considered himself something of a monster. he's spent most of his life trying to overcome the nature that was bred into him, the forcefed cruelty reinforced by fear, by his father's actions and ministrations. for as much as he's learned to analyze and identify every point of action in his brain, every thought, every emotion, they're still foreign to him, and this is no different. in so many ways, he is still the fifteen year old who found his mother's corpse; he is still the adult who sometimes lives in a home like a mausoleum, every piece of furniture still exactly the same it was the day she died.
so to be told he's human because he's grieving is almost shocking.
d is allowed to come close to him. he's allowed to touch him, even. up this close, when he touches him, he'll find that fei du almost flinches at the touch, and maybe more so, he is trembling, and violently, shaking like a leaf. his mouth opens, closes. ]
I -
[ I don't want it. at first, but that's not true. of course he does. he wants it more than anything. the tears keep coming, like they've been held back for years, because they have been. slowly, the static in his brain starts to fizzle.
fei du shudders. like this, he's not the sometimes silly, playful, social president fei, or even the sometimes scary sociopathic ceo who talks about strangulation and murder like he enjoys it, who claims to love pain and acts like a sadist, who tries to turn people against him because he knows he makes a good villain. no. fei du is a terrified, miserable child who puts claw marks in everything he's ever loved because he's so desperately afraid it's going to leave him again.
he tilts his head forward. just slightly. just enough to press into the touch, and doesn't move. ]
He did want to emphasize Fei Du isn’t a monster; however, there was no need for him to even bother mentioning the word right now. He isn’t going to give Fei Du inward ammunition to which he can cling.
Gently, he brushes his fingers over Fei Du’s cheek, wiping the wetness away even if it’s only momentary. Then he lifts his arms and embraces Fei Du’s shoulders, drawing him to himself. Hugging him lightly—in case Fei Du may want to pull away.]
Someone terrible has hurt you for a long time, Mr. Fei. Even without that in the way, it is hardest of all to love yourself when you are human. I have seen it many times. Again and again. The worst humans have to give.
But humans can change. I have seen that, too, as loathe as I am to admit.
You don’t have to be afraid of President Fei Du anymore. The only Fei Du that exists is the Fei Du I’m holding right now, the one mourning Mr. Luo. And he would never hurt any human or animal because he knows the value of human life. He always has, or he would have never tried to hurt himself as a reminder.
I want you to forgive yourself, Mr. Fei. And I want you to trust more in yourself now so you can find better ways to help when you feel out of control.
he's fairly easily to manipulate, in this state. fei du usually resists being touched, but there's something about the softness of it that's different, because a touch that's tender is one that's almost unfamiliar. the reaction to being cared for is most equivalent to that of an abused dog in a shelter cage that finally feels a kind hand for the first time; he seems surprised by it, like he's never really known tenderness in his life. and truthfully, outside of luo wenzhou, he hasn't.
he goes, when he's tugged in, almost woodenly, stunned into silence by the words and the heavy weight of it all. there's no motion to hug him back, but he doesn't pull away - he just trembles in his arms, holding perfectly still while d talks, thoughts untenable and wild.
to be called out like that would make him so hesitant in any other moment - he'd be skittish and running to know that someone could see through him so easily, to know that he's been afraid his entire life, afraid of his father, afraid of himself. but right now, the words just sink into the sludge of his ruined emotions, the affirmations wrapping around his rotten heart and squeezing. can he forgive himself? will he? his mother's death - he could have done something, he could have said something, if he wasn't so afraid. and now, luo wenzhou, where he tried to give everything he had and once again, it was in total vain.
...after a long, long moment, when he wraps up, fei du finally drops his forehead down to d's shoulder. sorry about your nice clothes they're gonna get wet. and with that, he lets out a shuddery, miserable exhale. it's a breath and it's a sob, a noise totally unfamiliar to him, and he just stands there and cries, like a dam has just broken in half. he's allowing this in a way he never allows anything, and that has to be more confirmation that the words mean something than anything fei du could possibly say in response.
I'm sorry. his thoughts echo, over the messy nightmare of everything, the layered violin music, the sorrow, the guilt, the despair, the spiraling. i'm sorry. ]
[Since denying the apology would probably feel worse than simply accepting an unnecessary one.
He rests one hand on the back of Fei Du's head and keeps the other arm around Fei Du's shoulders, patting the back of one rhythmically. He doesn't mind holding Fei Du while the man gets it all out. In fact, he thinks he probably should have held Chris more often too rather than keep him and Leon at arm's length.
That is simply the price of duty.]
When we go back, [Not if because If is such a terribly fragile thing to say right now.] when your father is gone, I want you to leave that place. All of it. I want you and Mr. Luo to start your own lives together somewhere, something new, with the handsome and magnificent Master Yiguo. I want you to never look back again.
If you let the past keep its fingers in you then you will never be able to move forward into the future. Trust me... on that at least.
[As someone bound to the past, as someone shackled to remember the vengeance sprouted there, he knows.]
You can do that. I believe in you. You deserve to heal.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
[He waits for a long moment still, and then he very carefully steps toward Fei Du, unafraid, since Fei Du won’t—can’t—come to him.
He lifts a hand up to see if Fei Du will allow him to touch his face. Carefully!]
See? You have it. Humanity. This is what it means to be human, Fei Du. All of it. To be angry, to be violent, to also hurt, to cry, to grieve when there is loss because there is no grief at all if there isn’t love. People who don’t love don’t grieve.
You are human.
no subject
fei du has always considered himself something of a monster. he's spent most of his life trying to overcome the nature that was bred into him, the forcefed cruelty reinforced by fear, by his father's actions and ministrations. for as much as he's learned to analyze and identify every point of action in his brain, every thought, every emotion, they're still foreign to him, and this is no different. in so many ways, he is still the fifteen year old who found his mother's corpse; he is still the adult who sometimes lives in a home like a mausoleum, every piece of furniture still exactly the same it was the day she died.
so to be told he's human because he's grieving is almost shocking.
d is allowed to come close to him. he's allowed to touch him, even. up this close, when he touches him, he'll find that fei du almost flinches at the touch, and maybe more so, he is trembling, and violently, shaking like a leaf. his mouth opens, closes. ]
I -
[ I don't want it. at first, but that's not true. of course he does. he wants it more than anything. the tears keep coming, like they've been held back for years, because they have been. slowly, the static in his brain starts to fizzle.
fei du shudders. like this, he's not the sometimes silly, playful, social president fei, or even the sometimes scary sociopathic ceo who talks about strangulation and murder like he enjoys it, who claims to love pain and acts like a sadist, who tries to turn people against him because he knows he makes a good villain. no. fei du is a terrified, miserable child who puts claw marks in everything he's ever loved because he's so desperately afraid it's going to leave him again.
he tilts his head forward. just slightly. just enough to press into the touch, and doesn't move. ]
no subject
He did want to emphasize Fei Du isn’t a monster; however, there was no need for him to even bother mentioning the word right now. He isn’t going to give Fei Du inward ammunition to which he can cling.
Gently, he brushes his fingers over Fei Du’s cheek, wiping the wetness away even if it’s only momentary. Then he lifts his arms and embraces Fei Du’s shoulders, drawing him to himself. Hugging him lightly—in case Fei Du may want to pull away.]
Someone terrible has hurt you for a long time, Mr. Fei. Even without that in the way, it is hardest of all to love yourself when you are human. I have seen it many times. Again and again. The worst humans have to give.
But humans can change. I have seen that, too, as loathe as I am to admit.
You don’t have to be afraid of President Fei Du anymore. The only Fei Du that exists is the Fei Du I’m holding right now, the one mourning Mr. Luo. And he would never hurt any human or animal because he knows the value of human life. He always has, or he would have never tried to hurt himself as a reminder.
I want you to forgive yourself, Mr. Fei. And I want you to trust more in yourself now so you can find better ways to help when you feel out of control.
no subject
he's fairly easily to manipulate, in this state. fei du usually resists being touched, but there's something about the softness of it that's different, because a touch that's tender is one that's almost unfamiliar. the reaction to being cared for is most equivalent to that of an abused dog in a shelter cage that finally feels a kind hand for the first time; he seems surprised by it, like he's never really known tenderness in his life. and truthfully, outside of luo wenzhou, he hasn't.
he goes, when he's tugged in, almost woodenly, stunned into silence by the words and the heavy weight of it all. there's no motion to hug him back, but he doesn't pull away - he just trembles in his arms, holding perfectly still while d talks, thoughts untenable and wild.
to be called out like that would make him so hesitant in any other moment - he'd be skittish and running to know that someone could see through him so easily, to know that he's been afraid his entire life, afraid of his father, afraid of himself. but right now, the words just sink into the sludge of his ruined emotions, the affirmations wrapping around his rotten heart and squeezing. can he forgive himself? will he? his mother's death - he could have done something, he could have said something, if he wasn't so afraid. and now, luo wenzhou, where he tried to give everything he had and once again, it was in total vain.
...after a long, long moment, when he wraps up, fei du finally drops his forehead down to d's shoulder. sorry about your nice clothes they're gonna get wet. and with that, he lets out a shuddery, miserable exhale. it's a breath and it's a sob, a noise totally unfamiliar to him, and he just stands there and cries, like a dam has just broken in half. he's allowing this in a way he never allows anything, and that has to be more confirmation that the words mean something than anything fei du could possibly say in response.
I'm sorry. his thoughts echo, over the messy nightmare of everything, the layered violin music, the sorrow, the guilt, the despair, the spiraling. i'm sorry. ]
no subject
[Since denying the apology would probably feel worse than simply accepting an unnecessary one.
He rests one hand on the back of Fei Du's head and keeps the other arm around Fei Du's shoulders, patting the back of one rhythmically. He doesn't mind holding Fei Du while the man gets it all out. In fact, he thinks he probably should have held Chris more often too rather than keep him and Leon at arm's length.
That is simply the price of duty.]
When we go back, [Not if because If is such a terribly fragile thing to say right now.] when your father is gone, I want you to leave that place. All of it. I want you and Mr. Luo to start your own lives together somewhere, something new, with the handsome and magnificent Master Yiguo. I want you to never look back again.
If you let the past keep its fingers in you then you will never be able to move forward into the future. Trust me... on that at least.
[As someone bound to the past, as someone shackled to remember the vengeance sprouted there, he knows.]
You can do that. I believe in you. You deserve to heal.
[Just as Chris did.]