homecoming

She stumbled back, shying from his reach. Dread's chest ached. He wouldn't stop coming, even if it's not in his best interest to push. Even if it's not ideal, right now. Moving closer to Deluge, he can't help himself. Everything about it is unnerving. He's worried. She looks... poorly. Poorly in ways he knows he's responsible for, poorly in ways he longs to fix. Dread remains steadfast, though she tries to herd him toward the door.

Though all of the woman goes rigid, flashes warnings, he can't do it. He can't step back. Not again. "Deluge, please," the words are gentle, reaching once more for her face. Perhaps desperately, reaching out for her. "I know, I'm sorry," Dread's tone is earnest, he doesn't heed the growl. He knows the threat she presents, and he knows he's in the wrong.

But here he is. Dread isn't leaving, not again. Not ever again, and he'll stand his ground here. There's no aggression, only an earnest attempt to reach out, to bridge the gap once more. "Babe, I know you're upset, I'm sorry." The words carry weight, though he doesn't have the right ones. Not right now. All Dread wants to do is take her to his chest, hold tight. Never the eloquent speaker, at the moment, he's just a man. Just a man who's laying his heart bear for his not-wife.

"speech"