[Hakkai flinches at that, outright, and looks up from the three earrings in his palm to the stranger standing in his kitchen.]
I did not want to hurt them-- [He stops himself before his voice can break, or spiral up into panic. There are no bodies. Even his hand, as he looks down at it, seems less bloody, the warm liquid on his fingers becoming ephemeral. Tea?
As he thinks it, he realizes that it is just tea, that must have splashed onto his hand when he set his cup down. Why had he ever thought it was blood?
(Behind him, unnoticed, the red stains on the teacup and the kettle become nothing more than a red-glazed teacup, a red enameled kettle, as quietly and easily as though that had always been what they were.)
He looks up at Zelda again. She's afraid of him: she should be, of course. He's a monster. The limiters in the palm of his hand, with their ability to mask his monstrosity behind a human guise, make no difference to that at all. Knowing that, he closes his hand over them, but still pulls it close to his chest, as though protecting a treasure.]
I don't want to hurt you.
[And, with a determined air, he opens his hand and reaches up to slip the limiters one by one onto the shell of his ear.
His appearance does not change in the least, but the set of his shoulders shifts, just slightly, as though a hidden tension has eased.]
I don't want to hurt you.
[He repeats it with more certainty, and closes his eyes for a few seconds before sagging back into the chair that is still pulled out from the table. The other is empty now, pushed in, bloodless. Hakkai looks at it, wondering if there were ever blood there, or if he is dreaming, or if he has lost his mind.
He gestures to it nonetheless, with automatic politeness, and meets her unsettled gaze.]
no subject
I did not want to hurt them-- [He stops himself before his voice can break, or spiral up into panic. There are no bodies. Even his hand, as he looks down at it, seems less bloody, the warm liquid on his fingers becoming ephemeral. Tea?
As he thinks it, he realizes that it is just tea, that must have splashed onto his hand when he set his cup down. Why had he ever thought it was blood?
(Behind him, unnoticed, the red stains on the teacup and the kettle become nothing more than a red-glazed teacup, a red enameled kettle, as quietly and easily as though that had always been what they were.)
He looks up at Zelda again. She's afraid of him: she should be, of course. He's a monster. The limiters in the palm of his hand, with their ability to mask his monstrosity behind a human guise, make no difference to that at all. Knowing that, he closes his hand over them, but still pulls it close to his chest, as though protecting a treasure.]
I don't want to hurt you.
[And, with a determined air, he opens his hand and reaches up to slip the limiters one by one onto the shell of his ear.
His appearance does not change in the least, but the set of his shoulders shifts, just slightly, as though a hidden tension has eased.]
I don't want to hurt you.
[He repeats it with more certainty, and closes his eyes for a few seconds before sagging back into the chair that is still pulled out from the table. The other is empty now, pushed in, bloodless. Hakkai looks at it, wondering if there were ever blood there, or if he is dreaming, or if he has lost his mind.
He gestures to it nonetheless, with automatic politeness, and meets her unsettled gaze.]
No one will hurt you here.