Weakly, he squeezed her fingers back, unsure what to do with her gesture other than accept it. He fumbled over his own silence, wanting to say anything just to break the pressure of her of immense, empathetic sorrow weighing down on him. He could feel it rebounding off his own, magnifying the despair that he'd tried to suppress. Seeing her so affected made it all the harder to ignore the gravity of his own condition. Any facade he could've put up would've simply crumbled before her.
What did he have left? A sea of uncertainty, of fear and self-pity and inadequacy where his leaves used to be, threatening to swallow him whole the moment he let them out. Every fibre of the man he used to be resisted, as though staying strong for others would somehow bring him back to any sense of normalcy.
Vinnie wanted to curl up and forget everything. To just... escape from the death sentence his body had given him, somehow. It was hard to see him as the same bold natured Venusaur that arrived at the school with his team so triumphantly.
When he finally spoke, his voice was thin and shaking and cracking at the edges. "What do I... what can I do now? I can't fight... I can't protect anyone anymore."
Re: Morning, Sunday the 19th
What did he have left? A sea of uncertainty, of fear and self-pity and inadequacy where his leaves used to be, threatening to swallow him whole the moment he let them out. Every fibre of the man he used to be resisted, as though staying strong for others would somehow bring him back to any sense of normalcy.
Vinnie wanted to curl up and forget everything. To just... escape from the death sentence his body had given him, somehow. It was hard to see him as the same bold natured Venusaur that arrived at the school with his team so triumphantly.
When he finally spoke, his voice was thin and shaking and cracking at the edges. "What do I... what can I do now? I can't fight... I can't protect anyone anymore."