[That's probably where Vash is winning the most favor, here. He's not saying "I understand your pain, I've been there", but instead telling him that he doesn't have to suffer through it alone. His entire life, however short in the grand scheme, he's had to walk alone. He's killed countless people whether they were truly criminals or completely innocent, all in the effort of chasing not his own happiness, but a future for the children who still had lives on this world to live. He had given up on having a life a long time ago when he sold his soul away to the devil. He had been ready to accept the fact that he would never have a peaceful life, and that he would probably die young when his luck finally ran out. Might as well go out with a bang...right?
But then he finds himself in this place, where the problems of home- while not entirely gone- are in a strange sort of limbo where he can compartmentalize them in ways he never could before. Vash is here, Livio is here and alive, and...it's all nearly too much for Wolfwood to handle. It's part of why he'd tried to just leave on that first day, hoping that maybe he would walk long enough to snap himself back to reality, only to wake up to himself dying in the desert or something. It would track that this whole thing ended up being a dying hallucination.
...it all feels so real, though. He's drunk sure, but he's plenty sober enough to be aware of what's going on. Vash is holding him like one might a lover, and he's not compelled to jerk away and push him off like he might have been in the past. In fact, the longer they embrace, the more that bitter sorrow wells up in his chest, that realization that this isn't something he deserves. He can't...really have this.
Wolfwood exhales a second time, and this time he can't hold himself together any longer. He blinks hard, feeling the tears he was fighting back from earlier spill over into the collar of Vash's jacket. Even when he was being held prisoner and fighting for his life, he never cried. Not from the misery, not from the pain.
But right now, where only Vash can be privy to it, he heaves a sob into his shoulder.]
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But then he finds himself in this place, where the problems of home- while not entirely gone- are in a strange sort of limbo where he can compartmentalize them in ways he never could before. Vash is here, Livio is here and alive, and...it's all nearly too much for Wolfwood to handle. It's part of why he'd tried to just leave on that first day, hoping that maybe he would walk long enough to snap himself back to reality, only to wake up to himself dying in the desert or something. It would track that this whole thing ended up being a dying hallucination.
...it all feels so real, though. He's drunk sure, but he's plenty sober enough to be aware of what's going on. Vash is holding him like one might a lover, and he's not compelled to jerk away and push him off like he might have been in the past. In fact, the longer they embrace, the more that bitter sorrow wells up in his chest, that realization that this isn't something he deserves. He can't...really have this.
Wolfwood exhales a second time, and this time he can't hold himself together any longer. He blinks hard, feeling the tears he was fighting back from earlier spill over into the collar of Vash's jacket. Even when he was being held prisoner and fighting for his life, he never cried. Not from the misery, not from the pain.
But right now, where only Vash can be privy to it, he heaves a sob into his shoulder.]