[ despite all his teasing, kovacs really isn't so dead set on tormenting her, even if it's hard to resist it when it comes easy, maintaining a hint of the smugness on his lips up until she leaves the room to get what she needs. once she's out of sight, any amusement falls away from his face, like the quiet emptiness of the room is always enough to transform him, like the facade of his weightlessness has no need to be present.
he sighs, letting it all go, feeling the lingering ache at his back, at where the wound had healed before his dreams had gotten the best of him. for a while, they hadn't been present at all, easier to quiet away when there's an additional warmth at his side, when a body curls against him like a shield from the terrors, but he's returned to sleeping on his own, to being unguarded in the night to the taunting nightmares of his memories.
when he and marta had burned the dolls, he'd known it was just a gesture, just a performance, and it was only when she'd adjusted her own to mirror the imperfections of his that he'd even considered putting a bit of his hope into the idea — that maybe it could actually burn away the weight of the past.
he's not surprised he was wrong.
carefully, he lowers his body to rest on his side, back faced to the wall as his eyes still drift to peer around the empty room. slowly, they close, just gradually flutters that open and close slowly before he doesn't even realize when they shut completely, sleepless nights getting the past of him as he quietly falls into a light slumber. ]
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he sighs, letting it all go, feeling the lingering ache at his back, at where the wound had healed before his dreams had gotten the best of him. for a while, they hadn't been present at all, easier to quiet away when there's an additional warmth at his side, when a body curls against him like a shield from the terrors, but he's returned to sleeping on his own, to being unguarded in the night to the taunting nightmares of his memories.
when he and marta had burned the dolls, he'd known it was just a gesture, just a performance, and it was only when she'd adjusted her own to mirror the imperfections of his that he'd even considered putting a bit of his hope into the idea — that maybe it could actually burn away the weight of the past.
he's not surprised he was wrong.
carefully, he lowers his body to rest on his side, back faced to the wall as his eyes still drift to peer around the empty room. slowly, they close, just gradually flutters that open and close slowly before he doesn't even realize when they shut completely, sleepless nights getting the past of him as he quietly falls into a light slumber. ]