when he thinks about it, he is not sure what he has given her. in his recollection, he can only think of moments that he's given her to be frustrated with him, moments in which she grew irate with his actions, and brief moments in which they could express their sincerity and care for one another - someone who truly understood their mindsets without even trying.
is that it?
the joy of being known, the vulnerability of being seen? without worry for rank, hierarchy, or worship. those moments when it was just they two.
was that truly enough?
(no, limited moments would never be enough - but they are not selfish enough to ask for more.)
still, he listens to her words and holds her ever so slightly closer, for a fraction of a moment, before he can truly recognize the motion for what it is - i want you with me.
but that is not something that he can ask.
in this situation, when they have too much to accomplish and more that they must do, when it comes into the realization that others need them more than they need each other—
it is only fitting now that he is the one discarded in the name of a greater ideal.]
.... I don't particularly care for saints or gods. It is difficult to believe in notions of idealism, as impressive as they may be next to words like 'justice' and 'heroism'.
[so he's not sure if he can believe in her the way that others believe in her, the way that she will surely be regarded as a savior to them all for undertaking a task that will help them. a martyr.
he pulls back just enough to sigh, a smile on his lips - faint, but... fond.]
... but I'll believe in you, as Jeanne, and the power that you hold as yourself. As a girl I'm quite fond of, and that I'm glad to have met even in this situation where the fate of the world is in the balance.
[ . . . ]
Please come back to me on Friday.
If I can ask for anything, it is only that.
[don't make their short time together any shorter.]
[ It is enough when his words make something in her chest seize and then loosen, and it is enough to make her press herself against him for the briefest second as she breathes in how their differences are enough.
(All she needed was one who won't see her as a saint.)
For her, it's enough.
So even when he holds no faith when that's all she holds, and even if he won't hope when that's all she can shoulder, she thinks it's enough.
At least, in this one small moment, it's enough when it's all they're willing to have - because stopping just for each other is not something they will choose to do when they have much more to do.
(Even if they paused for two seconds to consider that they could choose it.)
She pulls back a little, so her voice isn't muffled. ]
When was the last time I didn't answer something you asked of me?
[ Her question is almost chiding, but her words are warm with affection. ]
I promise. I swear to you - not on my name, not on my flag, not on anything else except it's because it's what I wish to do.
[ Because if she had a selfish wish, it'd be to return to him.
Because she can't promise to stay with him when the universe hangs in the balance.
Because the moments that they can simply be they two may run out by the end of the next weekend or even before.
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no subject
when he thinks about it, he is not sure what he has given her. in his recollection, he can only think of moments that he's given her to be frustrated with him, moments in which she grew irate with his actions, and brief moments in which they could express their sincerity and care for one another - someone who truly understood their mindsets without even trying.
is that it?
the joy of being known, the vulnerability of being seen? without worry for rank, hierarchy, or worship. those moments when it was just they two.
was that truly enough?
(no, limited moments would never be enough - but they are not selfish enough to ask for more.)
still, he listens to her words and holds her ever so slightly closer, for a fraction of a moment, before he can truly recognize the motion for what it is - i want you with me.
but that is not something that he can ask.
in this situation, when they have too much to accomplish and more that they must do, when it comes into the realization that others need them more than they need each other—
it is only fitting now that he is the one discarded in the name of a greater ideal.]
.... I don't particularly care for saints or gods. It is difficult to believe in notions of idealism, as impressive as they may be next to words like 'justice' and 'heroism'.
[so he's not sure if he can believe in her the way that others believe in her, the way that she will surely be regarded as a savior to them all for undertaking a task that will help them. a martyr.
he pulls back just enough to sigh, a smile on his lips - faint, but... fond.]
... but I'll believe in you, as Jeanne, and the power that you hold as yourself. As a girl I'm quite fond of, and that I'm glad to have met even in this situation where the fate of the world is in the balance.
[ . . . ]
Please come back to me on Friday.
If I can ask for anything, it is only that.
[don't make their short time together any shorter.]
no subject
(All she needed was one who won't see her as a saint.)
For her, it's enough.
So even when he holds no faith when that's all she holds, and even if he won't hope when that's all she can shoulder, she thinks it's enough.
At least, in this one small moment, it's enough when it's all they're willing to have - because stopping just for each other is not something they will choose to do when they have much more to do.
(Even if they paused for two seconds to consider that they could choose it.)
She pulls back a little, so her voice isn't muffled. ]
When was the last time I didn't answer something you asked of me?
[ Her question is almost chiding, but her words are warm with affection. ]
I promise. I swear to you - not on my name, not on my flag, not on anything else except it's because it's what I wish to do.
[ Because if she had a selfish wish, it'd be to return to him.
Because she can't promise to stay with him when the universe hangs in the balance.
Because the moments that they can simply be they two may run out by the end of the next weekend or even before.
(Because it truly isn't enough.
But she can't admit that.) ]
I'll show you I'll come back to you.