kindofitchyâ:
feralverndariâ:
The quarter-fae listens silently, his expression sad, as the man heâd come to care so deeply for vented his ire, allowing him to finish before before he sighed quietly and stepped up to the younger male. A gentle hand was brought up to his face to cup his cheek, bringing his face to his own and placing a soft kiss on his lips before he spoke quietly.
âI wasnât talking about them, WestâŚabout her. She can rot, and so can everyone who helped her or would condemn you for something you never asked for.â he assured him, leaning his head forward to rest their foreheads together briefly before pulling back to look the other in the eye once more.
âI was talking about you. You need to forgive yourselfâŚfor what was done to both of themâŚand for what you did to set him free. Donât think I donât see how it eats you up insideâŚâ
Not very many things could ever bring West out of his ire once it began, yet David managed to so easily with just a simple gesture, a kind word, and a caring touch. It almost felt like magick in place, even if the elder stated he couldnât use a lick of it despite his heritage. And so when he was brought out of the rage, he seemed shocked, almost uncertain what to do at this point except lean into the touch, eyes closing briefly as their foreheads touched.
He really was watching him closely, wasnât he?
ââŚI donâtâŚknow ifân I can,â he admitted morosely, his voice barely above a whisper.
ââŚI stillâŚI still dream about those things, I still hear themâŚI still see the blood on my hands every night. How can IâŚhow can I forgive myself fer thaâ, David? âSpecially when thâ end result is IâŚI took a life thaâ shoulda been hisâŚnotâŚnot mine. It wasâŚnever mine ta rightfully have.â
Especially as this abominationâŚ
âI feel like a thiefâŚa murdererâŚâ
âI wonât lie to you and tell you that it will be easy. I still have days where I struggle with myself over what happened back home. Forgiving oneself is a hard and long road... One that feels like it might never end, at times... â he soothed softly, bringing his other hand up to gently grasp the youngerâs flesh and blood hand, gently kissing his knuckles as he laced their fingers together.
âBut, babe...youâre no thief, and youâre sure as I have wings no murderer. I wouldnât have fallen for a murderer. No matter how you got it, your life is yours. He took his into his own hands when he went to war- he knew that. He knew what could happen. Iâm sure he expected it to happen after that accident, and even wanted it to when you found him. You gave him what he wanted...you didnât take anything from him- not even before you knew the truth. The only one who did that was her, and you had no control over that.â he assured him, smoothing the thumb of the hand that cupped his face over his cheek.


















