[Des rests his forehead against his knee and inhales through his nose, but says nothing. She's touching on things he's often stayed awake at night thinking about. You want to die so badly, but you don't understand a lick of what happens after. Has it ever occurred to you that it might be more terrifying than being alive?
But it never makes the ache fade. The minute such a simple notion could penetrate his stubborness, he would want to live and the curse would be lifted when next he sought death out, or so his understanding went.]
no subject
But it never makes the ache fade. The minute such a simple notion could penetrate his stubborness, he would want to live and the curse would be lifted when next he sought death out, or so his understanding went.]