[Scaramouche doesn't mean for his reaction to hurt, too lost in his own emotions to begin to consider what the samurai may be feeling. Of his thoughts struggling against one another trying to determine if any of this is real, if Kazuha was so cruel to torment him like this. He knows, from their past interactions, with the months of time they've spent together that the samurai isn't that, he would never harm him in such a manner - always so gentle and patient with him. But it's hard to trust so fully. To be vulnerable.
The grip on his hand tightens and he knows he's reacted poorly, the look on the mortal's face, the tone of his voice as he asks him not to leave, not to run. Where such pain would be a joy to witness anywhere else, again he finds that on someone he cares for it brings only discomfort, a pain pulling at his chest and coiling tight against his throat. He can do nothing but stand there, staring back as he tries to calm the storm in his mind.
He been able to trust the Inazuman with things he's told no other, though he still keeps plenty private and to himself the samurai knows more of him than anyone else in Nippon. Nothing has been done with that knowledge, he's treated him no different, going so far as the foolishly wanting to protect him, as though he wasn't an immortal with power capable of protecting himself.
Trust is something he's afforded the man and he's only done things to nurture it, allow it to grow. He wouldn't betray him if he were to show more vulnerabilities would he? The way Kazuha looks he doesn't think he would. Doesn't think the Kazuha he's known for months would. Understanding of his life as a Harbinger, of his creation, of nearly killing him.
Scaramouche swallows a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, eyes uncertain as he searches to find his voice - quiet and shaky.]
no subject
The grip on his hand tightens and he knows he's reacted poorly, the look on the mortal's face, the tone of his voice as he asks him not to leave, not to run. Where such pain would be a joy to witness anywhere else, again he finds that on someone he cares for it brings only discomfort, a pain pulling at his chest and coiling tight against his throat. He can do nothing but stand there, staring back as he tries to calm the storm in his mind.
He been able to trust the Inazuman with things he's told no other, though he still keeps plenty private and to himself the samurai knows more of him than anyone else in Nippon. Nothing has been done with that knowledge, he's treated him no different, going so far as the foolishly wanting to protect him, as though he wasn't an immortal with power capable of protecting himself.
Trust is something he's afforded the man and he's only done things to nurture it, allow it to grow. He wouldn't betray him if he were to show more vulnerabilities would he? The way Kazuha looks he doesn't think he would. Doesn't think the Kazuha he's known for months would. Understanding of his life as a Harbinger, of his creation, of nearly killing him.
Scaramouche swallows a breath he didn't know he'd been holding, eyes uncertain as he searches to find his voice - quiet and shaky.]
You... did this for me.