[he scrambles to escape, wrenching himself away from her as he backs himself up. tries to put some space between them, regardless of her grip. he needs the distance. needs the chance to try and force the hallucination away. to bury it alongside those memories of a happier time. thinking about iris is never going to stop hurting. so having his mind play games on him like this--]
Just stop it, stop it, stop it.
[despite knowing that this isn't real, he can't bring himself to look away from her. to miss a moment of whatever this is. it's more than a photograph, more than a distant memory being relived. this is a version of iris that he hasn't imagined before. he's relived the night of her death, of course. more times than he can recall. but she isn't a bloodstained corpse. isn't the love of his life breathing her dying.
none of this is making sense, and he has no idea what he's even meant to be doing right now. what he can do other than stare blankly back at a ghost of his past.]
no subject
Just stop it, stop it, stop it.
[despite knowing that this isn't real, he can't bring himself to look away from her. to miss a moment of whatever this is. it's more than a photograph, more than a distant memory being relived. this is a version of iris that he hasn't imagined before. he's relived the night of her death, of course. more times than he can recall. but she isn't a bloodstained corpse. isn't the love of his life breathing her dying.
none of this is making sense, and he has no idea what he's even meant to be doing right now. what he can do other than stare blankly back at a ghost of his past.]