Save it. [He hears her, feels something akin to frustration rise in response to her being obstinate and not getting that he's not doing this to be stubborn. It's just another emotion to add to a glass just about ready to spill over.] Go preach that to someone else.
[He wants to run, really. Feels the uneasy tension in his nerves that's making his hands shake hard enough it's a wonder they haven't shook themselves loose of him. He wants to just bolt and hide in some corner where no one will be able to find him. Ride everything out (or don't) like he's some kid hiding from monsters under a blanket, but there's no way out. Could maybe try the balcony but shit that was high and it's a long way down and he's not suicidal. Just someone who knows what might happen if he's not stable and snaps, and doesn't want anyone to be around for it if it happens. Even if they die, he refuses to be someone's executioner.
He knows how ridiculous it is, to listen to the voices in his head, but in a way he believes it. He can't help believing it, even though he doesn't want to. Maybe he's wrong (but you're not, you know), but regardless, knows how he is now. How he sounds. What would he say to her and Aki and Miki? Maybe "Look, there are voices in my head telling me things. So siddown and listen good, you morons, because I've got a story to tell—scariest one you've ever heard, so unplug your damn ears and listen as if hearing was the only sense you had left: we're going to die. Soon, probably tomorrow, because it can't get worse than this. Let's die together, huh? Be just like old times—you know, the ones I was dead or unconscious for." That would be a laugh, wouldn't it?
He wishes she would just do what he said. Try it once. See what happens.
But he doesn't trust her to do that. Because the last few times he's tried to get her to leave she hasn't. Those times it wasn't as big of an issue—not a possibly lethal one. This one's different. If he thought he was harmless, the argument here would be different. And maybe that's why he finds himself pushing the desk away and opening the door to the kitchen, shutting it behind him—wasn't safe in here either, but shit—and gritting his teeth, taking a a deep breath to calm himself down, before clearing the distance between he and the blockaded door. Sliding down and leaning against it.
She wouldn't dare to force her way in now. Not with him right here in front of it. Being in front of the door is like a damn checkmate for the moment until she moves across the board. She can't go this way, can she? Except maybe she would try. She has guts, and sometimes doesn't play by the rules. If she won't do what he asks, maybe he should try something different until she gets it and leaves him alone until things go to hell or things blow over.] You want to know what's wrong, huh?
[action]
[He wants to run, really. Feels the uneasy tension in his nerves that's making his hands shake hard enough it's a wonder they haven't shook themselves loose of him. He wants to just bolt and hide in some corner where no one will be able to find him. Ride everything out (or don't) like he's some kid hiding from monsters under a blanket, but there's no way out. Could maybe try the balcony but shit that was high and it's a long way down and he's not suicidal. Just someone who knows what might happen if he's not stable and snaps, and doesn't want anyone to be around for it if it happens. Even if they die, he refuses to be someone's executioner.
He knows how ridiculous it is, to listen to the voices in his head, but in a way he believes it. He can't help believing it, even though he doesn't want to. Maybe he's wrong (but you're not, you know), but regardless, knows how he is now. How he sounds. What would he say to her and Aki and Miki? Maybe "Look, there are voices in my head telling me things. So siddown and listen good, you morons, because I've got a story to tell—scariest one you've ever heard, so unplug your damn ears and listen as if hearing was the only sense you had left: we're going to die. Soon, probably tomorrow, because it can't get worse than this. Let's die together, huh? Be just like old times—you know, the ones I was dead or unconscious for." That would be a laugh, wouldn't it?
He wishes she would just do what he said. Try it once. See what happens.
But he doesn't trust her to do that. Because the last few times he's tried to get her to leave she hasn't. Those times it wasn't as big of an issue—not a possibly lethal one. This one's different. If he thought he was harmless, the argument here would be different. And maybe that's why he finds himself pushing the desk away and opening the door to the kitchen, shutting it behind him—wasn't safe in here either, but shit—and gritting his teeth, taking a a deep breath to calm himself down, before clearing the distance between he and the blockaded door. Sliding down and leaning against it.
She wouldn't dare to force her way in now. Not with him right here in front of it. Being in front of the door is like a damn checkmate for the moment until she moves across the board. She can't go this way, can she? Except maybe she would try. She has guts, and sometimes doesn't play by the rules. If she won't do what he asks, maybe he should try something different until she gets it and leaves him alone until things go to hell or things blow over.] You want to know what's wrong, huh?