The redhead turns to glance at Tidus, but there's no cheerful call of 'Sunshine!', no grin to brighten up his face as he stares, just for a moment, then turn his gaze back to the blank, murky fog that surrounds them. It shifts in curtains, sweeping away only for a blanket of thick dark nothing to swallow up the hole that has been opened up. His eyebrows lower, and he takes a deep, long breath.
"D'you think y' could anchor me?" He's not... sure how else to ask.
There's words and thoughts and feelings and with all the voices sharing space in his head in the recent days, Esteban struggles, struggles so much harder than usual to put them in some semblance of order. Pesky things, delightful things, moments and snatches of time that he can't quite put in order, it's too much of a mess inside his own head at this point. He needs to tell Tidus something, but he can't remember what.
Oh-- not exactly, he knows he's apologetic because he's been callous, but it's not enough to just say "sorry", so he'll have to wait until he can actually see his path between his current words and his end goal. Wait-- he's probably worrying the blond at this point, isn't he? Oh, he really is a mess.
The second glance brings a weak smile to his lips, as Esteban ruffles the short hair at the back of his neck, feeling the encroaching fog curl frozen fingers in the strands. He'd shiver, but that wouldn't bode well.
Re: iii
The redhead turns to glance at Tidus, but there's no cheerful call of 'Sunshine!', no grin to brighten up his face as he stares, just for a moment, then turn his gaze back to the blank, murky fog that surrounds them. It shifts in curtains, sweeping away only for a blanket of thick dark nothing to swallow up the hole that has been opened up. His eyebrows lower, and he takes a deep, long breath.
"D'you think y' could anchor me?" He's not... sure how else to ask.
There's words and thoughts and feelings and with all the voices sharing space in his head in the recent days, Esteban struggles, struggles so much harder than usual to put them in some semblance of order. Pesky things, delightful things, moments and snatches of time that he can't quite put in order, it's too much of a mess inside his own head at this point. He needs to tell Tidus something, but he can't remember what.
Oh-- not exactly, he knows he's apologetic because he's been callous, but it's not enough to just say "sorry", so he'll have to wait until he can actually see his path between his current words and his end goal. Wait-- he's probably worrying the blond at this point, isn't he? Oh, he really is a mess.
The second glance brings a weak smile to his lips, as Esteban ruffles the short hair at the back of his neck, feeling the encroaching fog curl frozen fingers in the strands. He'd shiver, but that wouldn't bode well.
"Please?" Manners are a good start, he supposes.