[Ace cries. And he cries. And he holds onto Marco and cries until he finally makes a disgusting noise and pushes himself away hard. He's not going to be sick on him, and he doesn't want to be ill at all, but he's worked himself up until there's no holding the uglier parts of sorrow back. And he stumbles away with a wobbly gait, empties his stomach, and struggles back over to what right now is the only thing that feels like life to him.
Marco. Ace bites at his lower lip, not sure what he wants to say, or what he's trying to hold back. And instead he just unceremoniously flops against him, winding his arms around for any comfort or stability he can get. He's still confused, but if he could be ill, then he's probably not dead after all.
Did he die at all? He doesn't understand. Dead people don't come back. They don't hurt either. Or do they?
If he wasn't dead, where had he gone?] It was cold. [He's not sure if he's still cold or not. Or why he thinks this is the most important bit of information to come up.] Shit, Marco. Did I die? I think I died. I can't remember. What happened? You know, right? [He looks a little steadier but his eyes are wild with fear.]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2019-02-18 04:24 am (UTC)Marco. Ace bites at his lower lip, not sure what he wants to say, or what he's trying to hold back. And instead he just unceremoniously flops against him, winding his arms around for any comfort or stability he can get. He's still confused, but if he could be ill, then he's probably not dead after all.
Did he die at all? He doesn't understand. Dead people don't come back. They don't hurt either. Or do they?
If he wasn't dead, where had he gone?] It was cold. [He's not sure if he's still cold or not. Or why he thinks this is the most important bit of information to come up.] Shit, Marco. Did I die? I think I died. I can't remember. What happened? You know, right? [He looks a little steadier but his eyes are wild with fear.]