[ He shakes his head when she starts apologizing, sudden and sharp, as if shaking off a swarm of flies. Brings his hands to his temples, rubbing as if there's a barrage pounding behind his skull. ]
[ Sense-memory reliving every moment of the weekend, images crackling and popping, leaving delight, confusion, shame and dismay in their wake. ]
Stop talking. [ It's not an order; it's a plea. ] Just... stop.
[ It was a curse. But it was more than the curse. He doesn't fight the sense that something enormous and terrible has happened, bones and nerves shattering without warning -- that everything has skewed and will never quite be the perfect angle again. ]
[private]
[ Sense-memory reliving every moment of the weekend, images crackling and popping, leaving delight, confusion, shame and dismay in their wake. ]
Stop talking. [ It's not an order; it's a plea. ] Just... stop.
[ It was a curse. But it was more than the curse. He doesn't fight the sense that something enormous and terrible has happened, bones and nerves shattering without warning -- that everything has skewed and will never quite be the perfect angle again. ]