There is still enough awareness in Daeshim for him to know that this isn't him. He doesn't demand things from Lennon, he doesn't get aggressive with him. And he does try to fight it, until he's able to let go of his hair and just touches his face instead.
And then a voice comes along, one that he barely recognizes as also being his own. It reminds him that this is him, that his blood is no different from the Fae who eat humans alive, no different from the ones who make them dance or use them as playthings. You are not human. You've told him this over and over again....
But even so, he counters, I'm not entirely like them... Because he looks at Lennon and he feels something genuine, he knows he does. He's just now noticing the shadows that have always been behind those feelings, things with claws and teeth that long to possess over and over again.
"We're going to our room."
No questions, no argument. He takes the other's hand, prepared to drag him if he must.
no subject
And then a voice comes along, one that he barely recognizes as also being his own. It reminds him that this is him, that his blood is no different from the Fae who eat humans alive, no different from the ones who make them dance or use them as playthings. You are not human. You've told him this over and over again....
But even so, he counters, I'm not entirely like them... Because he looks at Lennon and he feels something genuine, he knows he does. He's just now noticing the shadows that have always been behind those feelings, things with claws and teeth that long to possess over and over again.
"We're going to our room."
No questions, no argument. He takes the other's hand, prepared to drag him if he must.