emotional wreckage
Characters: Vincent Valentine [notwhatiwas] and Veld Dragoon [consummateturk]
Location: Vincent's Room [Deck 05, 8202]
Date: July 3rd, after Lucrecia's Arrival
Rating: PG-13
Vincent sat on his bed, holding his comm in both hands--delicately, like he was afraid he would break it, staring at the little screen with glowing eyes that flickered between red and yellow in time with his heartbeat.
He played the transmission again.
"Hello... network?"
His heart pounded in his chest, breath coming in short, ragged gasps, rimmed with a growl he couldn't hold back, and barely even registered.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what each of you--if there's anyone out there--wishes to be called individually so I'm forced to address you as a conglomerate."
Vincent's mouth dropped slightly open, just enough to show two matching rows of sharp teeth--top and bottom--before he closed it again, one claw-tipped, human-sized finger hovering over the keypad. She'd spoken to him again. He really should have responded.
But she didn't even know his voice. She was from before all that. She didn't know. Any of it. With that in mind, what could he say? She wouldn't believe who he was until she saw him, and even then it might be stretch. He didn't want her to see him. He wanted to see her. He didn't want her to know. He wanted her to look at him. He didn't want to scare her. He wanted to hear her say his name again.
Vincent sat on his bed, skin slowly but surely paling out, hair threatening to pull up into horns every time he breathed just from the sheer emotion, and felt himself breaking.
Location: Vincent's Room [Deck 05, 8202]
Date: July 3rd, after Lucrecia's Arrival
Rating: PG-13
Vincent sat on his bed, holding his comm in both hands--delicately, like he was afraid he would break it, staring at the little screen with glowing eyes that flickered between red and yellow in time with his heartbeat.
He played the transmission again.
"Hello... network?"
His heart pounded in his chest, breath coming in short, ragged gasps, rimmed with a growl he couldn't hold back, and barely even registered.
"I'm sorry, I don't know what each of you--if there's anyone out there--wishes to be called individually so I'm forced to address you as a conglomerate."
Vincent's mouth dropped slightly open, just enough to show two matching rows of sharp teeth--top and bottom--before he closed it again, one claw-tipped, human-sized finger hovering over the keypad. She'd spoken to him again. He really should have responded.
But she didn't even know his voice. She was from before all that. She didn't know. Any of it. With that in mind, what could he say? She wouldn't believe who he was until she saw him, and even then it might be stretch. He didn't want her to see him. He wanted to see her. He didn't want her to know. He wanted her to look at him. He didn't want to scare her. He wanted to hear her say his name again.
Vincent sat on his bed, skin slowly but surely paling out, hair threatening to pull up into horns every time he breathed just from the sheer emotion, and felt himself breaking.