(he doesn't like this part of him. the part that expects bad things to happen. he wishes dearly he had the optimism and strength of those around him. klavier never once gave up, even after his brother was convicted twice, his best friend once. it baffles him how steadfast he could be. meanwhile apollo was sitting here, wallowing in his own disgusting self pity, unable to face reality or even set foot outside his apartment.
he wanted to be strong, think back on clay's memories with a smile, not curl in harder around klavier, sob his heart out. the world still turns, with or without clay. but apollo's world stopped. it stopped the moment that knife was plunged into clay, and he was having an impossible time making sure apollo's world kept turning. moving forward, moving on brightly and unwavering.
clay would probably yell at him for moping this much. they'd shout "i'm fine!" to each other a few times, share tears in secret, then go on to face the world stronger than before.
but clay didn't have that anymore. neither did apollo.) I... I know. I'm sorry. I just-- I don't know.
(he's lost. there's no direction for him, that usual pillar of support with a cheesy remark is gone, his grounding force has been taken away, to a place he'll never reach.
he believes klavier's words. his voice is weak, but it speaks with some amount of conviction. he knows. he'll be fine someday. but "someday" isn't today.)
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he wanted to be strong, think back on clay's memories with a smile, not curl in harder around klavier, sob his heart out. the world still turns, with or without clay. but apollo's world stopped. it stopped the moment that knife was plunged into clay, and he was having an impossible time making sure apollo's world kept turning. moving forward, moving on brightly and unwavering.
clay would probably yell at him for moping this much. they'd shout "i'm fine!" to each other a few times, share tears in secret, then go on to face the world stronger than before.
but clay didn't have that anymore. neither did apollo.) I... I know. I'm sorry. I just-- I don't know.
(he's lost. there's no direction for him, that usual pillar of support with a cheesy remark is gone, his grounding force has been taken away, to a place he'll never reach.
he believes klavier's words. his voice is weak, but it speaks with some amount of conviction. he knows. he'll be fine someday. but "someday" isn't today.)