[ there's a lot of feelings here, between him; between dante--and between Nick, too. Most of them unspoken, assumed--they're not people who talk emotions; because talking emotions means admitting things that hurt you as much as the things that please you.
And if there's anything the three of them are bad at, it's admitting they're feeling anything but Just Fine.
Dante using that word on him brings up a dozen thoughts and makes him come up with a dozen more, wondering if he deserves this from the man--from Dante, who he'd grown so very attached to, yes, but. Just like Nick. He's sure he's going to outlast and outlive them both. Even if Devils lived longer than humans, he's sure his own lifespan was well beyond that, and he knows--he knows, there's a cruelty in watching those around you grow old while you stay the same; always the same.
It was something that he dreaded back on No-man's land, the look of terror and disdain others gave him when they realised 20 years had passed and Vash the Stampede hadn't aged a single day.
And then there was the fact--did he deserve it? did he deserve someone who'd care for him, after all he's done? dante doesn't even know--the thousands he's killed, how many people he'd failed time and time again--
he feels his breath catch when dante speaks, he can --
he can feel dante's anxiety, a tingling sense just behind his eyes that he's hurt dante in some way with his, admittedly, cold response and now he's set to panic.
Wait. Nick? Nick--said?
Ah, he feels his heart in his throat. Nick had said it first. ]
Dante, I.
[ ohhhh, he sounds so stupid right now. take a deep breath. put your thoughts together, then speak. ]
...Nico said it first. [ he lets out a small breath, almost like a laugh ]
Don't apologise. Please, anything but that. I'm sorry, I. Reacted wrong. I just.
It's been a long time since I considered myself someone capable of being loved. By others. [ he's... trying so hard to put his words together, to make sense. ]
no subject
And if there's anything the three of them are bad at, it's admitting they're feeling anything but Just Fine.
Dante using that word on him brings up a dozen thoughts and makes him come up with a dozen more, wondering if he deserves this from the man--from Dante, who he'd grown so very attached to, yes, but. Just like Nick. He's sure he's going to outlast and outlive them both.
Even if Devils lived longer than humans, he's sure his own lifespan was well beyond that, and he knows--he knows, there's a cruelty in watching those around you grow old while you stay the same; always the same.
It was something that he dreaded back on No-man's land, the look of terror and disdain others gave him when they realised 20 years had passed and Vash the Stampede hadn't aged a single day.
And then there was the fact--did he deserve it? did he deserve someone who'd care for him, after all he's done? dante doesn't even know--the thousands he's killed, how many people he'd failed time and time again--
he feels his breath catch when dante speaks, he can --
he can feel dante's anxiety, a tingling sense just behind his eyes that he's hurt dante in some way with his, admittedly, cold response and now he's set to panic.
Wait.
Nick?
Nick--said?
Ah, he feels his heart in his throat. Nick had said it first. ]
Dante, I.
[ ohhhh, he sounds so stupid right now. take a deep breath. put your thoughts together, then speak. ]
...Nico said it first. [ he lets out a small breath, almost like a laugh ]
Don't apologise. Please, anything but that.
I'm sorry, I. Reacted wrong. I just.
It's been a long time since I considered myself someone capable of being loved. By others.
[ he's... trying so hard to put his words together, to make sense. ]
I'll outlive Nick. And you, too.