#limbvice

@limbvice​ —— BRIAN MOSER / SENTENCE MEME.

       he’s still not sure. there are too many factors to take into consideration, and like they say, hindsight is 20/20. had he known before what he knows now, would he still have killed his brother? he couldn’t have known that doakes would begin very unprofessionally tailing him every night, causing him to stall in his true work; he couldn’t have known that taking his brother’s life would make it so difficult for him too take someone else’s; he couldn’t have known that he would begin to see his brother somewhere between the frustration and guilt he’s been feeling to cope with what he’d done. he ought to have at least known that it wouldn’t be something he could simply work through on his own and, with no one to talk to about it, he can’t be surprised that his mind is conjuring up brian’s image to help him through it. still, he can’t say he’s thrilled about it.

       “you were going to kill deb.” a pause. “you wanted me to kill deb.” either way, he couldn’t have let it happen. he says that he doesn’t have feelings, but there’s some tinge of emotion in his soul when he thinks about something truly bad happening to deb. hurting her isn’t an option. that’s his sister, foster or not. maybe harry hadn’t been the man that he seemed to be, but dexter has no doubts about what kind of person deb is. maybe she can never see him for who he truly is, but there’s still a part of him that feels strongly enough for her that her life took precedence over his own peace.

        it is very late. but as the hours crawl by, she’s found herself unaware of the time. because it is not of importance, not when he gives such satisfying conversation. it’s been a very long time she thinks, since she’s had someone to talk to like this. and it’s not much of anyone’s fault but her own. the walk along the path has been long and winding, the wind has a gentle breeze to it, and it’d been the perfect night for the said stroll. 

        so, when he speaks, she’s glancing over in his direction. expression neutral, a warmth in her eyes. there’s this tilt to the edge of her mouth, as if he’s told a joke and she’s trying very hard not to laugh.    ❛    you have to go soon? is that what you’re trying to say?    ❜     is she ready to let him leave?

        he catches her attention immediately, his tall and lanky form, his dark brown hair, and piercing eyes. and he’s staring right at her, eye contact isn’t something he’s hesitant with. and she’s always admired that when it comes to conversation, when it comes to others that wish to engage. 

        it’s always a must. 

       ❛    mm. i’m assuming you didn’t walk all the way over here just to tell me hello. why don’t you sit with me?    ❜

@limbvice —— BRIAN MOSER / SENTENCE MEME.

       i’d always thought that was the truth. i had been taught to believe that there are people like me— people like us— and people like them. normal people. i had been taught to pretend, to blend in with the people like them so that no one would know that i’m actually a people like us. it’s a survival tactic, part of harry’s code, because i’m not really a person like them at all. i’m not really normal, and i’m never going to be.       but despite the call that no longer whispers in my ear but screams for me to listen, i can’t give in to the simple truth that my brother tries to give me. i can’t relinquish the life i’ve lived for the past thirty or so years for a brother i barely remember, no matter how clearly he sees me. deb may be a foster sister, may never accept me for who i truly am the way that brian will, but i cannot give up harry’s code as easily as he urges me to.

       i wanted to play. now i wish i hadn’t— the game has gotten more personal than anticipated.

        she’s already smiling, clover anne lifts one of her hands to muffle a small laugh, bright brown eyes peering up at brian with a look of animation and mirth, “ you don’t have to call me that, ” even though she definitely PREFERS it.

       IT’S  NOT  EVERY  DAY  YOU  MAKE  DEALS  WITH  THE  DEVIL,   but  the  Devil  is  not  everybody’s  brother.       He’d  like  to  bite  his  expression,  contain  the  GROANING  pain  that  it  causes  him.  There’s  a  TUG-A-WAR  ROPE  in  his  chest  and  the  ribbon  is  dancing  between  the  sides  of  a  line.          Is  this  a  line  he  might  cross  in  Brian’s  favor??

         a slow descent of eyes on his form, she is unashamed of her ogling, slanting her head - as if she’s considering what’s in front of her ( so pretty, he smells NICE! ). the smile comes to her face fast, dazzling and wide, eyes alight with obvious excitement. she never hides her emotions, they flow out of clarissa with ease.