019; VOICE POST.

[albedineity]

I'm getting a little tired of this place. Nothing really ever changes here.

[ Some shuffling, and then it cuts off with a long, even pause. ]

-- What the hell, Rikku. Did you sign me up to do bitch work?

Comments

| COMMENT LOG;

[pseudism]

[ That was how it always sort of started. That was the same mistake over and over and it was fine, because Heine didn't really have any other option but to make that mistake. To think, fuck it, and stand his ground, to just keep his back to wall - no surprises - and wait. The world was locked in like a prison, and he could only run so many laps before his legs would get tired and he'd just have Giovanni coming at him anyway. No better off than before.

When it started, there was no way out of it.

But it wasn't just standing and waiting that was part of the error. That was more like a consequence in the error of his thinking, because the only mistake Heine really made was in thinking that Giovanni couldn't crack into that shell and get to where it hurt the most. It was in thinking that just because it was unavoidable, it didn't have to matter.

It always mattered. Now, now more than ever, because Giovanni had a goal that he could fulfil, Giovanni had intentions that didn't have to come second to his devotion. Giovanni could get

| COMMENT LOG;

[pseudism]

[ The turnabout was sudden, jarring and unexpected and there was nothing Gio could do before his head was cracking against the wall, the sound loud enough to echo down the street. His palm was cold without Heine's body pressed against it, his breath quickening to work through the pain and his vision was a blur, a haze with dark edges. His peripheral vision vanished into stars and all he could do, for entirely too long, was stare at him as he was shoved back against the wall again.

Finally, it was his turn to touch Heine's wrist, to rest his arm loosely against the hand that curled in his tie, tightened it against his throat inadvertantly - though, perhaps, desirably. And he smiled again, a strange thing that began hesitant, and ended with a soft, pleased exhale through his teeth. ]

You changed your tune quickly.

That's the thing about animals like us. Nothing ever feels like a risk until we do it.

[ Still so shaken. He moved from Heine's wrist to touch his cheek instead, fingers tracing the sharp protrusion of his jawline, thumb

| COMMENT LOG;

[albedineity]

[ Heine's head jerked back away from the finger at his lip, and he just turned his head, spitting blood onto the ground before wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. His fingers dug into the material of his jacket once more, and he wasn't even listening, wasn't paying any attention, because he couldn't. Because it would have been a bad idea, and listening would have only made him shake and quiver even more than he already was.

He jerked him away from the wall again and slammed him back against it, breathing deeply in an attempt to fill his lungs with the much needed oxygen. The air still tasted like Giovanni, though, and Heine swallowed, had to resist the urge to spit again. ]

Fuck you. You're so fucking predictable.

[ His words were coming out a little bit shaky, though, because he still couldn't see worth a shit, couldn't really tell if he was talking to Giovanni's face or to his neck. His fingers tightened once more in his jacket, before they relaxed, and he was drawing away, stumbling back one step

| COMMENT LOG;

[pseudism]

[ Giovanni didn't need to say anything. Heine had to know, didn't he? He had to know that if Giovanni was predictable, Heine wouldn't be so surprised, and if he was predictable, Heine wouldn't be running like this. If he was predictable, Heine would know what was coming, he'd know to run a little faster, to move even through his shock