[He doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't know what to feel at that. He feels like the universe has been turned on its head. He'd been so sure of this, with a deep-seated conviction, an acceptance of his status of less as fact. It was as comfortable and familiar as it was miserable. Now it's gone, and he feels utterly uprooted.
He curls up again, his eyes pressed into his bare knees, and immediately feels tears trickle down his legs to mingle with the bathwater. He feels like he's cried more these past few months than he ever has before in his entire life, and he really doesn't care for it. This is different from before, though; before, it had been all rage and frustration and grief, and he'd felt just as twisted up afterward as he had before.
Now he's curled up in a bathtub crying quietly into his knees, and instead of knotted up he feels hollow and light. Like he hadn't known he'd been carrying a weight. Strange, almost like a different person, though he realizes dimly that might just be the fever.]
I'm sorry.
[He doesn't know what he's apologizing for, except everything. There's so much. Sorry for having done this, sorry for hurting his cousin who had only wanted the best for him all along, sorry for being hard to understand, sorry for Tuuri. Sorry for causing problems. Sorry for getting sick and having feelings that don't make sense and for making mistakes and for not being good enough and for crying. Sorry for their whole stupid, pointlessly difficult lives.]
no subject
Oh.
[He doesn't know what to say to that. He doesn't know what to feel at that. He feels like the universe has been turned on its head. He'd been so sure of this, with a deep-seated conviction, an acceptance of his status of less as fact. It was as comfortable and familiar as it was miserable. Now it's gone, and he feels utterly uprooted.
He curls up again, his eyes pressed into his bare knees, and immediately feels tears trickle down his legs to mingle with the bathwater. He feels like he's cried more these past few months than he ever has before in his entire life, and he really doesn't care for it. This is different from before, though; before, it had been all rage and frustration and grief, and he'd felt just as twisted up afterward as he had before.
Now he's curled up in a bathtub crying quietly into his knees, and instead of knotted up he feels hollow and light. Like he hadn't known he'd been carrying a weight. Strange, almost like a different person, though he realizes dimly that might just be the fever.]
I'm sorry.
[He doesn't know what he's apologizing for, except everything. There's so much. Sorry for having done this, sorry for hurting his cousin who had only wanted the best for him all along, sorry for being hard to understand, sorry for Tuuri. Sorry for causing problems. Sorry for getting sick and having feelings that don't make sense and for making mistakes and for not being good enough and for crying. Sorry for their whole stupid, pointlessly difficult lives.]