[ it sounds too good to be true which is exactly why juno chose to cling to it. no one walks the walk in hyperion city, not if they want to rise, but there's ramses o'flaherty, doing just that. it's that last bit of hope inside of juno, welling up and reaching for something that looks a little bit like a shaft of sunlight.
the tone of nureyev's voice shifts to something a little softer when he speaks, and juno's hands come together tightly. the storm. there's a disbelief that's imprinted itself all over his brain (no way, no how, it can't have happened, they're goddamn lying) and it's hard to shake. hell, juno likely won't shake it for a while because it's like having a piece of you that's kept you going for so long literally punched straight out of your chest like your last breath of air. for a moment he doesn't respond, like he's trying to find the words. ]
Yeah, you know -
[ normally he's not at a lack.
but he hadn't exactly expected to see nureyev here, not that he isn't relieved, not that he hadn't wanted him to be here, like he doesn't already think about him in those quiet moments on his own. ]
Big, mean old world. [ tight-lipped, receding. ] Couldn't do a goddamn thing about it. What good am I, right?
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the tone of nureyev's voice shifts to something a little softer when he speaks, and juno's hands come together tightly. the storm. there's a disbelief that's imprinted itself all over his brain (no way, no how, it can't have happened, they're goddamn lying) and it's hard to shake. hell, juno likely won't shake it for a while because it's like having a piece of you that's kept you going for so long literally punched straight out of your chest like your last breath of air. for a moment he doesn't respond, like he's trying to find the words. ]
Yeah, you know -
[ normally he's not at a lack.
but he hadn't exactly expected to see nureyev here, not that he isn't relieved, not that he hadn't wanted him to be here, like he doesn't already think about him in those quiet moments on his own. ]
Big, mean old world. [ tight-lipped, receding. ] Couldn't do a goddamn thing about it. What good am I, right?