[ He wants to ask for help, but there are a lot of reasons why he can't, won't. Still, if he has to choose a way to die, he doesn't want to do it feeling alone. Just like when he first arrived in this world again - so recently - his mind runs quickly through a list of people he cares about, would like to speak to, or hear from.
His mind does that, but his heart doesn't have to do anything at all. For his heart, the decision is already made, and since the chip records text at the speed of thought instead of fingertip, once his mind catches up, there's no reason he can't say everything he likes.
What to say, then? He can't say anything that would worry Genesis, not when he's already decided not to ask for help, that he doesn't - even if it means his death - want someone else hurt in his name, for his sake. So, what to say?
But that too, his heart already knows. ]
On nights like this when I don't see you, I think of you a lot. I wanted you to know. Even though we spend our days in different places, doing different things (or sometimes different people we both know that) I think of you, no matter what.
I thought you might want to know that.
That I imagine your arms strong and warm around me, or your lips against mine, or better yet, a moment of quiet peace outside of touch, a smile just for me, the way your eyes crinkle when it's a real nice one, or the smell of your cologne, left on my skin even after I step away.
I thought you might like to know I think about those things, and appreciate them, all the time. But for now, I'm going to sleep! So good night, and I love you.
[ Going to sleep is perhaps an understatement. And he doesn't have the heart for fancy hearts, not right this moment. But if he's very lucky, if he can hold on just another few seconds, maybe he'll get to hear those last few words back. That would be a nice way to go out. ]
7/1 Late-ish Text
His mind does that, but his heart doesn't have to do anything at all. For his heart, the decision is already made, and since the chip records text at the speed of thought instead of fingertip, once his mind catches up, there's no reason he can't say everything he likes.
What to say, then? He can't say anything that would worry Genesis, not when he's already decided not to ask for help, that he doesn't - even if it means his death - want someone else hurt in his name, for his sake. So, what to say?
But that too, his heart already knows. ]
On nights like this when I don't see you, I think of you a lot. I wanted you to know. Even though we spend our days in different places, doing different things (or sometimes different people we both know that) I think of you, no matter what.
I thought you might want to know that.
That I imagine your arms strong and warm around me, or your lips against mine, or better yet, a moment of quiet peace outside of touch, a smile just for me, the way your eyes crinkle when it's a real nice one, or the smell of your cologne, left on my skin even after I step away.
I thought you might like to know I think about those things, and appreciate them, all the time. But for now, I'm going to sleep! So good night, and I love you.
[ Going to sleep is perhaps an understatement. And he doesn't have the heart for fancy hearts, not right this moment. But if he's very lucky, if he can hold on just another few seconds, maybe he'll get to hear those last few words back. That would be a nice way to go out. ]