[He stiffens again, but this allows Lobelia to take advantage of it, tipping them both back. What a soft landing. Everything is so beautiful, so light. A mockery of heaven itself, in fact. A shade of a man like him isn't made for it, and neither is Lobelia.]
[If Lobelia is here, he knows this is wrong.]
[His hands clutch at the other's body, but its as if to find an anchor, his mind reeling. He feels sick. He always was sick to his core.]
I'll waste all the effort I can. [A murmur, hoarse.] I can't abide by this.
no subject
[No.]
[He stiffens again, but this allows Lobelia to take advantage of it, tipping them both back. What a soft landing. Everything is so beautiful, so light. A mockery of heaven itself, in fact. A shade of a man like him isn't made for it, and neither is Lobelia.]
[If Lobelia is here, he knows this is wrong.]
[His hands clutch at the other's body, but its as if to find an anchor, his mind reeling. He feels sick. He always was sick to his core.]
I'll waste all the effort I can. [A murmur, hoarse.] I can't abide by this.