Something shifted in the presence behind him. Something in a way Solomon didn't expect. It was warm, and it was softer than before. Gentle. Like tilled earth, things turned up to the light. Realisations.
Solomon rested his forehead against the wall as Ghastly spoke, closed his eyes, and almost felt as if the forces building inside him had to seep out through his skin. He wasn't prepared for emotions like this. They locked up in his throat and his breathing turned ragged, but he still couldn't keep them in. Couldn't keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks.
He'd never have imagined how a simple acknowledgement of how he felt would take him. Skulduggery wasn't the type to do that. He left peoples' feelings to them. He didn't talk to them about it. He dealt in facts. And angels hardly counted. It was their job.
It was different when it was a person. A human. Someone like him. Solomon had never expected it. Could never have expected it.
You have each other.
Did they? he wondered, and was almost startled when the question came out loud. Half a plea. Half disbelief. Very small. "Do we?"
He rolled over to set his back against the wall and slid down to the floor, resting his elbows on his knees and his head against his clasped hands. He breathed, deep and slow and shaken, and still couldn't keep the tears in check. "I can't handle this alone. If he's all I've got, then--" He laughed, a broken, scattered laugh. "I can't trust him with me."
If Skulduggery was all Solomon had, then he was going to fail. Because one man, one broken man of whose darkness Solomon was afraid, would never be enough.
no subject
Solomon rested his forehead against the wall as Ghastly spoke, closed his eyes, and almost felt as if the forces building inside him had to seep out through his skin. He wasn't prepared for emotions like this. They locked up in his throat and his breathing turned ragged, but he still couldn't keep them in. Couldn't keep the tears from sliding down his cheeks.
He'd never have imagined how a simple acknowledgement of how he felt would take him. Skulduggery wasn't the type to do that. He left peoples' feelings to them. He didn't talk to them about it. He dealt in facts. And angels hardly counted. It was their job.
It was different when it was a person. A human. Someone like him. Solomon had never expected it. Could never have expected it.
You have each other.
Did they? he wondered, and was almost startled when the question came out loud. Half a plea. Half disbelief. Very small. "Do we?"
He rolled over to set his back against the wall and slid down to the floor, resting his elbows on his knees and his head against his clasped hands. He breathed, deep and slow and shaken, and still couldn't keep the tears in check. "I can't handle this alone. If he's all I've got, then--" He laughed, a broken, scattered laugh. "I can't trust him with me."
If Skulduggery was all Solomon had, then he was going to fail. Because one man, one broken man of whose darkness Solomon was afraid, would never be enough.