every muscle, every fiber of his being aches with the torment of new-found burdens. his body begged for air, muscles pressing against skin in the physical exertion required for using his powers to such extremities. sweat pricks his skin, making his clothes feel two sizes smaller, && constantine feels as if dying was a favorable option.Ā
the only thing he does is hold on.Ā
the boyās legs waver from beneath him && connor feels him grasping for purchase. back straighten, grip tightens, eyes s o f t e n. constantine seeās elijahās beauty, then, notices the worry, the fear, the exhaustion -- but the beauty.Ā
most days, elijah looked like a broken soldier -- torn to shreds by a battle that heād never asked to participate in. now, his whole body had slackened, almost as if he couldnāt comprehend the new-found peace. it seemed as if heād forgotten his worries, instead focusing on a new feeling that coursed through him. the sight was unlike anything heād ever seen before.Ā
he knew it was wrong to think so, but elijah was breathtaking, for someone who looked so traumatized.
ā i-i donāt know. i can
do things, weird things
-- with shadows && the
dark && i -- i think part
of Ā that is darkness, in
the emotional sense.Ā
i was just trying to help
you feel better, buddy
-- all you deserve isĀ
to feel better. āĀ
the sentences were surprisingly coherent, for a man in such a state of exhaustion && panic. it almost made him feel good; proud of being able to act so well in such an o d d situation.Ā
he knew it was too good to be true.Ā
seconds later, elijah was collapsing, ready to collide with the floor && constantine didnāt think -- merely acted. he was primal, in that way; never thinking of the danger to protect those around him, to provide for them, but simply acting in a way that was beneficial towards his loved ones. his f a m i l y.
he pulls the boy into his chest, willingly going down with him && acting as a make-shift shield.Ā
the ground hurts when it collides with the bones of his back, and he lets a small groan of discomfort sound from red, bitten lips, but he stills, then -- arms practically hugging the boy on top of him. his hands go to the otherās neck, two digits pressing down, unmistakably searching for a pulse. perhaps it was stupid to think that he was dead, but constantine had shards of glass cutting his skin && any sort of response would make his pain worthwhile.
ā are you alright?Ā ā
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