![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
mekachu04he heals.
he still can't break free, still can't escape, but there are parts of him that work with his demonic nature, and he heals.
there is something soft under his cheek, and while his arms are stretched slightly, they don't hurt so much, warmth under his arm pits and along the sides of his chest - pressed close to hold him up but not enough to hurt.
a comfortable hug of sorts, even if there is an odd press into the base of his back. in the beginning, he'd exhausted himself to convince his arms to be just a little longer. now, he pulled a few vertebra out of existence, shortening his back, pulling his body up so he could rest his bum above the vee of the warm press on his sides, perching on the odd press and relaxing back into the embrace. there was a soothing motion, a petting to his face, and he drifted off again.
---
its cold again.
it's cold, a numbing sort, but at least he painful light is still gone.
so is the warm dim light that had comforted him. the soft pillow under him is gone; no, the is still a strong smoothness under his cheek, he's still held tight and carefully. but it's solid now, and the only heat is what it trapped form him.
there is still dripping, but it's far away, and there is something tangled in his hair. he doesn't try to pull away, he's pretty sure it's supposed to be there.
he's alone. and he can feel his heart break. but he's not scared. he's not afraid. he doesn't even want to leave anymore.
he's crying, and while he doesn't know why, he feels like it's the right response.
he still can't break free, still can't escape, but there are parts of him that work with his demonic nature, and he heals.
there is something soft under his cheek, and while his arms are stretched slightly, they don't hurt so much, warmth under his arm pits and along the sides of his chest - pressed close to hold him up but not enough to hurt.
a comfortable hug of sorts, even if there is an odd press into the base of his back. in the beginning, he'd exhausted himself to convince his arms to be just a little longer. now, he pulled a few vertebra out of existence, shortening his back, pulling his body up so he could rest his bum above the vee of the warm press on his sides, perching on the odd press and relaxing back into the embrace. there was a soothing motion, a petting to his face, and he drifted off again.
---
its cold again.
it's cold, a numbing sort, but at least he painful light is still gone.
so is the warm dim light that had comforted him. the soft pillow under him is gone; no, the is still a strong smoothness under his cheek, he's still held tight and carefully. but it's solid now, and the only heat is what it trapped form him.
there is still dripping, but it's far away, and there is something tangled in his hair. he doesn't try to pull away, he's pretty sure it's supposed to be there.
he's alone. and he can feel his heart break. but he's not scared. he's not afraid. he doesn't even want to leave anymore.
he's crying, and while he doesn't know why, he feels like it's the right response.
