[To her credit, Fang doesn't flinch; however, she does lower her hand and look away.]
[Silence, for a beat.] No. I had that coming.
[This is too familiar. A horrible, ironic flashback with their positions reversed, Vanille throwing the fit over the other's carelessness instead of Fang—a parallel that makes her gut twist with the hopelessness of it all repeating again. Fang didn't know if she could deal with one of them storming off again to god knows where for god knows how long.]
[No. Fang would deal with it, as many times as she needed to, no matter how it wounded her. If this was some kind of cosmic justice for her actions in the Cathedral, so be it. Her good intentions weren't enough anymore—they never were in the first place. She couldn't keep stringing Vanille along with her hellish life choices.]
...I don't know what to do, Vanille. I—[Her voice is quiet, and Fang's completely still, even where her tail would usually be flicking in idle motions. There was a notable lack of fight and frustration in her voice; she's too sick for this right now. The revival illness and the ordeal with the parasites and her guilt and emotional turmoil was too much to handle all at once, especially after that last blow.] I don't feel well.
[And Fang turned, trudging over to the bed to sit with a sluggishness that spoke more to her actual age. She'll get back up from this whole episode; Fang always did. This time... It was just going to take a little longer to get back on her feet.]
[She couldn't apologize. She couldn't promise to do better. What should she say to Vanille?]
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[Silence, for a beat.] No. I had that coming.
[This is too familiar. A horrible, ironic flashback with their positions reversed, Vanille throwing the fit over the other's carelessness instead of Fang—a parallel that makes her gut twist with the hopelessness of it all repeating again. Fang didn't know if she could deal with one of them storming off again to god knows where for god knows how long.]
[No. Fang would deal with it, as many times as she needed to, no matter how it wounded her. If this was some kind of cosmic justice for her actions in the Cathedral, so be it. Her good intentions weren't enough anymore—they never were in the first place. She couldn't keep stringing Vanille along with her hellish life choices.]
...I don't know what to do, Vanille. I—[Her voice is quiet, and Fang's completely still, even where her tail would usually be flicking in idle motions. There was a notable lack of fight and frustration in her voice; she's too sick for this right now. The revival illness and the ordeal with the parasites and her guilt and emotional turmoil was too much to handle all at once, especially after that last blow.] I don't feel well.
[And Fang turned, trudging over to the bed to sit with a sluggishness that spoke more to her actual age. She'll get back up from this whole episode; Fang always did. This time... It was just going to take a little longer to get back on her feet.]
[She couldn't apologize. She couldn't promise to do better. What should she say to Vanille?]