Flynn wanted that kind of interaction, where there could be silence in between the two and it could be a sort of reconciliation that was devoid of words, yet his tongue began to move without his permission…. opting to allow his bright blue eyes to cross into a aggressive expanse, almost unseeing.
“There…was that so hard?”
In the place of rationality, he could almost hear the void voicing its soft denial, a revelation, something Flynn could not trickle down fast enough through the variable line of thought to apply to the course fast enough to filter it in a different direction that wouldn’t be setting it right onto the path of unpredictability. A place that clouds the friendship and deters the ability to quickly heal from prominent wounds made by sharp words casted recklessly.
The air poured, raining down onto Flynn’s obstinate nature, the hurt in Yuri’s sentence structure, the pain scouring his cadence in speech, pushing his soul to the very breaking point just by letting them free to the wind, and there was Flynn, refusing to placate to any of it. The fire of his irrational anger crashing down on everything that Yuri had just said as if to open a book and then set it ablaze, never really taking the time to read the contents within.
“You could have told me this ages ago- leaving me to wait for the answers is a waste of our time, and we have things that must be attended to in the mean time that are fairly pressing if you haven’t noticed-”
Flynn’s footfalls were a beat in time with his words, falling across with soft padding of his socks against the marble tile of the floor, crossing over plush carpets, brisking against a bed side, physically blatantly engaging every single barrier, setting the senses to sear over the aura of the dark haired man’s revolrie. Allowing no time for him to deny the pertinence of the time they had, and how it must be put to good use and to task repeatedly, in a violent determination of their worth.
“You and I can’t afford to keep secrets from each other, not in a world where faceless individuals are taking everything of your worth, pushing your limits and placing you and everyone you know in detriment, it may be easy to forget; but we need to trust each other- and it shouldn’t be so hard anymore. We could do it when we were young, and in so many ways, life will only get harder as we go on. There isn’t a space where we can have to ourselves when we are all we have to each others own.”
The intensity of his words were matched with the chroma of his eyes, and no one could deny, most of all Yuri, that he was dead serious- if for no other reason than how he lived his life, he could only live in such a serious way, he could only take life in such a defensive fashion, and it was hard to let up after such a long time. It was as if someone was producing a spring, that would tighten only with time, and the pressure that life pressed against it continually as it was as if someone was twisting Flynn’s arm, forcing him to be this way. It was the caress life had afforded them, a brutal fixture of ache that left behind a disease or affliction of a need for change. The more time that slipped by, the more Flynn’s fingertips burned for the need, the tighter the arm would be twisted, the harder the spring would tense. Leaving behind the entire compression that was known as ‘Flynn’ to no longer have hold of the things he did, the conversations all tinged with the edge of that squeeze, bringing others to that stress with him, forcing them to endure what he himself did. Lashing out without meaning, or remorse, without anything concrete to bind him to - he would just snap. Perhaps it would be when he died, that the inertia and the build up could finally be released, but there were places in life where you could validate the actions you took, the place where most felt themselves purged from their wrong doings. Their sins no longer acceled or leveled within reality, lost to humankind due to the pressure of life.
Being released from that was a temptation that was never to be acknowledged in a man who fought his way through everything, and never knew when to quit. Flynn withdrew, slowly, as if to come back to reality, a resolution plaguing his senses. He was made of a different set of makeup, a gene in his blood that would bring everyone in the world to a resolution, given a certain extent of time, the goals seemed improbable in measure, but he would grasp them, or die trying. If there was a way to make that death have meaning, then allow it to be so- to wash over his entire family to clean them of their early lives.
“I don’t like that you place anything in secret, and if you don’t want to talk about it- I can wait, but it’s been -days- since you ascended Lower Quarter sick as a dog with no answers, and don’t think I haven’t noticed that Repede is being repaired from wounds even the heaviest gels have given little to no purchase against. So I would be afforded the chance to be given the respect of the fact that I am intelligent enough to understand the circumstances without even being granted explanation so quickly rather than treated as though I am an idiot who doesn’t see what is so plainly happening around me.”
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