Some distant part of Balthier's mind is starting to tell him he shouldn't be reacting this strongly; he's been in his share of terrible situations. This was quick and relatively painless. It's over. This shouldn't be lingering. But there's a tremor in his hands and the sense of panic he'd pushed away while they were trying to finish is seeping back in.
It's not like him to be unaware of where he is or leave himself open to possible danger, nor is it like him to lean on someone else. When Aerith slips her arm around him, though, his mind goes somewhere else, and it's not until she shifts to open the door that he realizes he's lost ... ten minutes? Fifteen?
That hasn't happened since he was--
He forces himself to focus on Aerith, the way her touch feels, the details of where they are. Her house. Right. She had mentioned. They pass inside, and he glances at her, wincing at the tightness on her face. This hurt her too, and he retreated to leave her to deal with it.
"Thank you," he croaks, straightening from her support but letting his hand stay loosely around her back. He doesn't know if it's to reassure her or himself. It's hard to hold onto his thoughts, like he's somewhere else looking in. He presses the fingers of his other hand to either side of his nose, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry. I'll be back to myself shortly. I -- can I bathe?"
Get the memory of that place off of him, calm his head down. Maybe if he says he'll feel better he will. He doesn't want to be like this, not here, not around her.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2022-11-10 04:13 pm (UTC)It's not like him to be unaware of where he is or leave himself open to possible danger, nor is it like him to lean on someone else. When Aerith slips her arm around him, though, his mind goes somewhere else, and it's not until she shifts to open the door that he realizes he's lost ... ten minutes? Fifteen?
That hasn't happened since he was--
He forces himself to focus on Aerith, the way her touch feels, the details of where they are. Her house. Right. She had mentioned. They pass inside, and he glances at her, wincing at the tightness on her face. This hurt her too, and he retreated to leave her to deal with it.
"Thank you," he croaks, straightening from her support but letting his hand stay loosely around her back. He doesn't know if it's to reassure her or himself. It's hard to hold onto his thoughts, like he's somewhere else looking in. He presses the fingers of his other hand to either side of his nose, eyes closed tight. "I'm sorry. I'll be back to myself shortly. I -- can I bathe?"
Get the memory of that place off of him, calm his head down. Maybe if he says he'll feel better he will. He doesn't want to be like this, not here, not around her.