For several long moments Rafe stood frozen. It wasn't because of Skulduggery's reaction. Yet it was. It was, because even though Raphael had been nudging the boundaries, playing fast and loose with the privacy of peoples' minds, this was one step further. He had forced his memories onto Skulduggery.
There was a word for that, in the English language. Several words.
He felt the pulse. The pain. The way the detective's memories needed to knit back together, recover from that bludgeon.
All the anger drained out of him and his hands loosened. He was shaken. Felt it, looked it. Not exactly pale, but a little shocked. Like a man who'd just realised something not exactly good about himself--only Raphael was no man. When control was lost, where did the boundaries lie?
"Forgi--I'm sorry," he said roughly, changing words halfway, just because a plea seemed less appropriate than an apology. "I--you needed to understand, but that crossed a line. I should have been gentler. Or asked permission first. Or done it another way. Something."
no subject
There was a word for that, in the English language. Several words.
He felt the pulse. The pain. The way the detective's memories needed to knit back together, recover from that bludgeon.
All the anger drained out of him and his hands loosened. He was shaken. Felt it, looked it. Not exactly pale, but a little shocked. Like a man who'd just realised something not exactly good about himself--only Raphael was no man. When control was lost, where did the boundaries lie?
"Forgi--I'm sorry," he said roughly, changing words halfway, just because a plea seemed less appropriate than an apology. "I--you needed to understand, but that crossed a line. I should have been gentler. Or asked permission first. Or done it another way. Something."