@foreverfated said: ❝ I’ve got enough blood on my hands already. ❞
ㅤWhen Itachi had brought in the book to be mended by hands that were as skilled in this craft as they drew joy from such actions — an antique astronomy tome that was clearly outdate by current scientific standards but that contained fantastic illustrations of the skies above that should not be wasted — he'd not entirely expected the conversation to eventually reach this point. Yet here they were, now. Sharing impressions on a topic that, by rights, should be a heavy one on anybody's shoulders but that, to the two of them, seemed more like just another tuesday.
«Mhmm.»
ㅤThe first response was non-committal, might even be called dismissive. His elbow resting on the surface of the small work table nearby and his chin plopped on that palm, as onyx-dark eyes watched the older man's meticulous work over those worn-out pages. It was very far from it, however, and he hoped Lazarus would be aware of it by now. That Itachi himself was never one to rush to talk, only for the sake of offering something shallow and of no meaning. Taking a few further seconds to roll the previous sentence around in his mind, looking for words that would convey empathy without making it sound like pity, he eventually settled on something as simple as sincerity. Self-experience, if you will.
«And there is never washing it off, no matter how hard you try to scrub your skin raw.»
