[ It connects. And it hurts, enough for the need to vomit to surface even though he struggles with all of his willpower to force it back down. He doesn't want to be sick, here and now. He can't imagine thick, black bile that numbs and disorients helping this scenario in any capacity. Not with the way Kurt's looking at him.
He doesn't understand it, but he understands enough. He's not privy to the entire circumstances which have generated this much anger and rage, but he's seen the look in enough eyes over his lifetime (lifetimes?) that he wishes that for once, miraculously, it would end the way they want it to.
The tail keeps him from speaking, from taking any breaths and despite what anyone might think about Sheol or Carmilla the truth of the matter is they very much need air like any other living thing. The edges of his vision are starting to blur and his head pounds for it, but still his only action is to brush his thumb over over cheek, ever tender and ever hesitant to inflict even the slightest harm. Kurt doesn't fear him. He isn't prey. Sascha likes him.
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He doesn't understand it, but he understands enough. He's not privy to the entire circumstances which have generated this much anger and rage, but he's seen the look in enough eyes over his lifetime (lifetimes?) that he wishes that for once, miraculously, it would end the way they want it to.
The tail keeps him from speaking, from taking any breaths and despite what anyone might think about Sheol or Carmilla the truth of the matter is they very much need air like any other living thing. The edges of his vision are starting to blur and his head pounds for it, but still his only action is to brush his thumb over over cheek, ever tender and ever hesitant to inflict even the slightest harm. Kurt doesn't fear him. He isn't prey. Sascha likes him.
And that means he does, too. ]