[Always. He wants to say it so badly but he can't. He just can't. It's a promise far beyond his ability to keep and to pretend otherwise would be hurting both of them.
Instead, he allows Berserker to hold him as tightly as he needs, wrapping his arms around his broad chest and pulling him in as close as he can. He breathes him in, commits to memory the way he feels and smells and everything else about him he could possibly absorb. His sense of loss is so profound that it's making Diarmuid himself anxious that, next time, he might lose him.]
[ Even if it is an unfulfillable promise, it's still the words he needs to hear. As long as they're both alive and here, it's enough for him. Their time together is fleeting and impermanent and Berserker knows that -- it's not even just their existence in this world, Servants are only given a brief time to live again.
He nuzzles against Diarmuid's neck, the pulse of magic between them giving him some sort of relief. There he stays, holding the witch tightly, for a few lingering minutes. He backs away, but doesn't entirely release him. ]
...None of this will last forever. However long we have...that's all I ask.
[Diarmuid resettles beside him, arms wrapped around his body and the gesture is gentle enough for him to brush aside if he wants but purposeful in its intent to comfort. Truthfully, he doesn't want to think of this as having an end; his happiness in his first life was prematurely torn away and in his second it was crushed before it could even really take root. It can't happen again. It won't. He won't let it.]
... there's no need to ask for that which is already yours, my love.
[ He makes no move to brush Diarmuid off; this touch and comfort si exactly what he needs right now. The loss of his Bond with Geralt came at an extremely bad time and made coping with the loss all but impossible. At least now he's not locked in a cell, alone and in pain. He has the support he desperately craved then, but no one allowed him to have.
Berserker just sits in silence for awhile, holding the witch close to him once again. He strokes Diarmuid's hair fondly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. ]
...I don't know if I could handle the pain of losing you. [ It's an incredibly vulnerable admission. ] You've given me so much...It's because of you I can even feel this way.
[ It's not an accusation at all -- he sounds almost grateful. As painful as this loss is, he realizes it's a sign of his growth. Strange... ]
It's worth it to feel this sad if I can feel something like joy in return...It's a trade off, isn't it?
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Instead, he allows Berserker to hold him as tightly as he needs, wrapping his arms around his broad chest and pulling him in as close as he can. He breathes him in, commits to memory the way he feels and smells and everything else about him he could possibly absorb. His sense of loss is so profound that it's making Diarmuid himself anxious that, next time, he might lose him.]
As long as I draw breath.
[In the end, he can't help it.]
no subject
He nuzzles against Diarmuid's neck, the pulse of magic between them giving him some sort of relief. There he stays, holding the witch tightly, for a few lingering minutes. He backs away, but doesn't entirely release him. ]
...None of this will last forever. However long we have...that's all I ask.
no subject
... there's no need to ask for that which is already yours, my love.
no subject
Berserker just sits in silence for awhile, holding the witch close to him once again. He strokes Diarmuid's hair fondly, pressing a kiss to his forehead. ]
...I don't know if I could handle the pain of losing you. [ It's an incredibly vulnerable admission. ] You've given me so much...It's because of you I can even feel this way.
[ It's not an accusation at all -- he sounds almost grateful. As painful as this loss is, he realizes it's a sign of his growth. Strange... ]
It's worth it to feel this sad if I can feel something like joy in return...It's a trade off, isn't it?