[ no matter how hard evangelyne tries to hide it, tristepan is the only member of their disfunctional, little group who has managed the great feat of making the cra feel the widest range of emotions since she and amalia departed from the sadida kingdom: frustration and worry whenever he flinged himself into action without a spare thought, relief and glee whenever he came back victorious with a big smile on his face, thrill and excitement whenever they happened to fight back to back. for the first time since the two met, however, eva is scared. scared of him. every time he slams his fists into boulder in front of him, a chill is sent down her spine, eyes are wide open and breathing becomes havier by the second. it’s in that moment that she risks it all and takes his bloody hands away from the target; because despite the fear of being accidentally hit, she cannot bear the excruciating sight any longer: tristepan looks like he’s in so much pain, and yet it seemed he had no intention to stop any time soon… if she has to be the one to step in in order to stop his recklessness? then so be it. only when the iop has come back to his senses, the young girl lets him go and crosses her arms under her chest. ]
“ … i know you didn’t. but what would have happened if i hadn’t showed up? ” [ eva lets out a profound sigh. truth be told, she had a way longer earful in store for him, but tristepan being unable to meet her eyes is a huge indicator that, maybe, she should not push it further than that. the simple question she posed leaves both of them with much to ponder about already, even if this time, the cra prefers not to seek for an answer since a gut feeling suggests her that she wouldn’t have liked it. instead, she turns around and begins to look for a water body because those wounds need to be cicatrized as soon as possible. ]
“ let’s find a place where we can wash those, shall we?” [ she attempts to smile. ] “ dinner should be ready soon. ”
feeling her hands letting go of his ones is both a relief and a pain. they stop hurting, though that feeling of slight burn wasn’t something that the iop was interested into; but they also feel abandoned, without any other hand holding them. his fingers wrap slowly around the knuckles, as a gesture trying to contain the blood loss that hides that weird sensation of loneliness that he’s suddenly proving without her contact.
and in all of this, his eyes keep looking down, and they close almost as in defeat when that question is given.
what would have happened if i hadn’t showed up?
his lips clench. he’s not even attempting to give a voiced answer to those words, that hit him much stronger than the cra probably expects. tristepan is ready for her reproach to go longer, but nothing arrives, leaving his head to imagine what would have happened. and though maybe naive, the iop is capable of understanding the consequences... even to imagine the worst scenarios. pictures that can’t but make his thoughts and guilt worse.
what would have happened? he would have broken his hands. and as much as he doesn’t care about physical pain, broken hands can’t hold a sword. broken hands can’t throw a punch. broken hands can’t fight. broken hands can’t protect...
what would have happened? it would have happened that in case of attack, his group would have had a member less, and in critical moments one less member is a crucial difference between winning and losing. between life and death.
that’s what would have happened.
that’s what would have happened...
eyelids hatch only when she speaks again, and for the first time he manages to gaze at her, even if for just a moment. he sees her attempt to smile, and he attempts as well, only to find himself unable to even force one. eventually, he simply nods.
« i-i can cure my hands myself, if you prefer. » he says in a murmur. his gaze is already sliding back down, to his cuts. « so you can cure dinner... i-i’ll be there when it’s ready, i won’t take long. »
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