[ Of course he wouldn't want her to see him like this. He hates seeing himself this way, a pathetic shell. One reason the mirrors upset him so, he can see the lines where he's started to crack. Why would he want her to see them too, to see how broken he's become?
Emma might not think he's taking her words to heart, but they get there just the same, sharp and icy and right to the core. It feels like something splintering inside and then even the sun isn't enough to dispel it. Instead he stares back at her, in all her disappointment, and he wonders why he fights it at all. Emma doesn't believe. Things aren't ever going to change, and even if they did and Grace remembered, she'd know he abandoned her.
Emma's not wrong; he's at his lowest, his most desperate, or he wouldn't have resorted to this. All those thoughts he'd been trying to escape start piling themselves back on, and he's never felt heavier. He blinks against the sting in his eyes before turning his head away, fingers curling tightly in the grass.
Maybe getting himself killed out here would be a mercy. ]
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Emma might not think he's taking her words to heart, but they get there just the same, sharp and icy and right to the core. It feels like something splintering inside and then even the sun isn't enough to dispel it. Instead he stares back at her, in all her disappointment, and he wonders why he fights it at all. Emma doesn't believe. Things aren't ever going to change, and even if they did and Grace remembered, she'd know he abandoned her.
Emma's not wrong; he's at his lowest, his most desperate, or he wouldn't have resorted to this. All those thoughts he'd been trying to escape start piling themselves back on, and he's never felt heavier. He blinks against the sting in his eyes before turning his head away, fingers curling tightly in the grass.
Maybe getting himself killed out here would be a mercy. ]