Novacaine

Caedes trembles ceased beneath Mariah's touch, her words beckoning him to listen, pleading as she tried to soothe him. Each syllable was like a lifeline thrown to a drowning man, his massive frame shuddering with the weight of his emotions as he took deep, steadying breaths. The memories were relentless, and powerful; a storm he couldn't escape. But he had to pick himself up, pull himself back together. For her. For the things he still needed to do.

He shook his head, eyes squeezed shut as if trying to block out the turmoil. But he wouldn’t block out her voice. Her voice was like a light in the darkness, and he wanted nothing more than to immerse himself in it, to let it wash away his pain and guilt. The thought of surrendering to her every word, of ceasing to exist in his agony, was both comforting and terrifying.

God he was tired.

“You see me as hurt.” He muttered, his voice barely audible as he breathed them out. “All I see is failure. I hear their voices. I see the blood. I feel the chill in my bones. The regret will not fade. That will not change.” It was his truth. His voice was stronger now, less broken. Just tired.

His eyes finally met hers, filled with a desperate plea for understanding. The warmth of her gaze was almost too much to bear, but he couldn't look away. He reached out, his paw hesitant as he touched her cheek, his fingers deftly brushing away her tears. She was so beautiful. The softness of her skin against his rough fingers felt like a crime.

“I want to be the man you see.” The brute whispered, his voice drawn out like he was moments away from sleep. The idea of not being a Saxe, of not being defined by his blood or his past, seemed foreign, impossible. Yet her conviction made him want to believe, to hope. Silly, dangerous thoughts. He looked into her eyes, searching for the strength he lacked, the strength he saw reflected in her gaze. Maybe she was just doing it for him. For his benefit.

As her touch lingered on his cheek, he felt a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time — relief? It was fragile, like a delicate flame, but it was there. “I love you, Mariah. Truly. I am sorry to show you this weakness of mine.” He whispered, his voice raw but sincere. He breathed her in, feeling a small shift within himself. He was still in a somber mood, still burdened by guilt and sorrow, but there was a glimmer of himself again.