[ There is no way to move when his body is all apart, disconnected, a heart not yet sewn into place. But he wants to. It shudders all through him, through the places their minds touch in response to that urgency, the overwhelming strength of that reaction. ]
I know, [ softly, overlapping. ] I know, Quentin. I would give it to you.
[ It, this. His beating heart. His bare throat.
All the soft parts of himself, so suited to accommodating a knife. ]
[ Affection balloons so fast and so massive into the space that it keeps pace with the ache. It creaks with anxiety. He makes no effort to damp it now; the next time they see each other, he doesn't know if he'll have the boldness to be as bare and honest as he must be when they're woven so tightly together.
[ Quentin lets Nikolai feel it. Harder still, he lets himself feel it. Fully, for the duration, till the pain of resurrection overwhelms the pain of being seen. ]
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[ Light, bright blue, and heat and a swelling pain and swelling tears. The feeling comes on too strong, edging on frantic. ]
I would do it. I would do it for you. I would for you, I'd do it for you i'd do it i would do it i'd
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I know, [ softly, overlapping. ] I know, Quentin. I would give it to you.
[ It, this. His beating heart. His bare throat.
All the soft parts of himself, so suited to accommodating a knife. ]
🎀
[ Quentin lets Nikolai feel it. Harder still, he lets himself feel it. Fully, for the duration, till the pain of resurrection overwhelms the pain of being seen. ]