❞ YASUO. retweeted
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― You keep saying it doesn't hurt.
― Because it doesn't.
― Then say their name.
― Don't.
― Why?
― Because I won't be able to stop.
― Stop what?
― Missing them.
― You've never stopped.
― I've been . . . surviving. There's a difference.
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of course i can see that, ahri.
( prickly once again, his words hold the same sharpness as his blade, an unintended consequence of speaking without prior thought. frustration bubbles beneath the surface — at himself, at the injustices he’s faced, )
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( deep breath, then an exhale. no. she’s right. dwelling on this with a pessimistic view won’t do him much. they’ll remain in cycle ‘til one of them breaks, no? a hand rises, carding through brown locks, ‘fore shaking his head. )
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the road to ruin is shorter than one thinks — death is not a footnote in his story. every step he takes within this long, arduous journey; from the days of yore, where the innocence that once clouded his curious gaze had been stained &. tarnished with the blood &.
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lest he were to experience a second death, yasuo’s movements are instant: with renewed vigor, he swims up above, breath held tightly underwater, ‘til he resurfaces at the top of this watery grave.
a series of coughs, followed by heavy exhales, then inhales,
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