@loveoaths demands: ❝ the man you hunt will take no pity on you. neither will i. stand up. ❞
the words come from so high above him, so far beyond his reach, that they may as well be delivered directly from the heavens. if they were they’d probably be just as derisive. he pushes his bruised hands and knees under himself, tries to get up and lands right back down on the ground, jelly-jointed, pale and shuddering and weak, so weak. he takes a moment longer, tries to get his breath in order first this time, discovers that he can’t. swallows mouthful after useless mouthful of spit trying not to puke.
he’s disgusting. he’s disgusting.
the killing intent lessens but does not leave the air.
after too long and with no small effort he manages to look up, at least. his eyes and mouth and nose are all full of dirt, which could excuse the tears and the heaving and the snot if either of them was feeling generous, but that’s never been anyone’s natural inclination. a heavy pressure has set up at his temples, spreading down through his neck and jaw, and seems permanent now. they’ve been at this for nearly two hours. he can’t stop trembling.
of course, yuki haku looks FUCKING impeccable. they always do, always have through these sessions. he could kill them. he could kill them. they don’t even have the decency to make him bleed for his hurt. the ghost-taste of vomit strengthens, the pang-pain through his head has never been sharper. but sasuke moves to rise one more time.
and this time his shaking limbs hold him.
