(he doesn't stop klavier from moving, not at all. in fact, he shifts with him as klavier takes a seat next to apollo on the couch, doing whatever possible to make sure that the one contact he has right now won't just up and disappear on him. like another one did.
fists clench into the back of klavier's blazer, shaking desperate and pained as the entire case floods back to him. no calls, unanswered texts, multiple voicemails. then the news. then a call. the world stopped turning, color drained from everything he saw, and he felt himself sink farther down than just to the floor in that moment. that one agonizing moment where another loved one was gone, to a place he could never reach. with people he didn't know, but still missed.) It's not fair... it's not fair. He never did anything wrong, he was-- he was just trying to save Mr. Starbuck. He was killed for nothing. He never even got to see his dream through, thanks to that goddamn director.
(the tears come out slowly, unlike the words rushing out like a waterfall. fast and pained and powerful, despite how weak and useless apollo felt. there was absolutely nothing he could've done in that situation. and that will stick with him til his dying day.
his face buries into klavier's shoulder, clinging to the one shred of comfort and support he has left, the one that doesn't awkwardly leave him to his own devices. he'll never be able to thank klavier enough for this.) Please don't leave me, Prosecutor Gavin.
no subject
fists clench into the back of klavier's blazer, shaking desperate and pained as the entire case floods back to him. no calls, unanswered texts, multiple voicemails. then the news. then a call. the world stopped turning, color drained from everything he saw, and he felt himself sink farther down than just to the floor in that moment. that one agonizing moment where another loved one was gone, to a place he could never reach. with people he didn't know, but still missed.) It's not fair... it's not fair. He never did anything wrong, he was-- he was just trying to save Mr. Starbuck. He was killed for nothing. He never even got to see his dream through, thanks to that goddamn director.
(the tears come out slowly, unlike the words rushing out like a waterfall. fast and pained and powerful, despite how weak and useless apollo felt. there was absolutely nothing he could've done in that situation. and that will stick with him til his dying day.
his face buries into klavier's shoulder, clinging to the one shred of comfort and support he has left, the one that doesn't awkwardly leave him to his own devices. he'll never be able to thank klavier enough for this.) Please don't leave me, Prosecutor Gavin.