[ it's been some time since he's been assaulted by this sort of pervasive dreaming, memory after painful memory unearthed for him to relive in a feverish haze. his uncle. damen. nicaise. auguste. one after another, relentless. he normally avoids the worst of these nightmares by simply sleeping very little, but now, he doesn't know how long he stays unconscious.
a sudden grind of pain shocks him to the surface, his breath ragged and his eyes blinking rapidly to clear the film from his vision. he comes awake in the silent, wordless grip of panic, his mind fluttering uselessly before he forces himself to think. a voice in his head screams in uncontrolled hysteria. he cuts its throat, then takes stock of his surroundings. a dingy tent. he's injured. the pervasive cold still permeates the air, but his clothes are damp with sweat. he's wrapped in something. there's someone else here.
laurent's gaze flickers to sasuke and holds, now clear-eyed, flinty. sasuke's fingers just barely brush his arm, his dislocated shoulder now back in place, the sharp ache fading to a dull throb. laurent does not move, but where his body had previously been limp with unconsciousness, he now lies rigid with tension.
he looks more like the boy who'd treated his wound in the streets, who'd shown him how to use a washboard, who'd promised to show him more. but laurent has already been bitten, and he knows the serpent's name now. ]
If you're still here — [ slowly, never taking his eyes from sasuke, he rises on one elbow, his injured wrist cradled gently against his chest. his voice is cold, smooth, perfectly in control despite his haggard appearance. ] Either kill me, or fetch me a horse. Express haste with your choice. We will not be spending the night together, I'm sure to the disappointment of your poor, virgin cock.
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a sudden grind of pain shocks him to the surface, his breath ragged and his eyes blinking rapidly to clear the film from his vision. he comes awake in the silent, wordless grip of panic, his mind fluttering uselessly before he forces himself to think. a voice in his head screams in uncontrolled hysteria. he cuts its throat, then takes stock of his surroundings. a dingy tent. he's injured. the pervasive cold still permeates the air, but his clothes are damp with sweat. he's wrapped in something. there's someone else here.
laurent's gaze flickers to sasuke and holds, now clear-eyed, flinty. sasuke's fingers just barely brush his arm, his dislocated shoulder now back in place, the sharp ache fading to a dull throb. laurent does not move, but where his body had previously been limp with unconsciousness, he now lies rigid with tension.
he looks more like the boy who'd treated his wound in the streets, who'd shown him how to use a washboard, who'd promised to show him more. but laurent has already been bitten, and he knows the serpent's name now. ]
If you're still here — [ slowly, never taking his eyes from sasuke, he rises on one elbow, his injured wrist cradled gently against his chest. his voice is cold, smooth, perfectly in control despite his haggard appearance. ] Either kill me, or fetch me a horse. Express haste with your choice. We will not be spending the night together, I'm sure to the disappointment of your poor, virgin cock.