Date: 2023-11-11 03:30 pm (UTC)
im_packing: (miles2)
From: [personal profile] im_packing
Already Miles is stepping in, both physically -- taking Kurt almost gently by the elbow and guiding them to sit upright -- and through the link, inserting himself into the torn-apart threads of connection, the only option, the only one left. It remains to be seen if Kurt will cling to him, desperate to fill the hollow, howling emptiness, or if they'll resist.

Eventually, though, it won't matter. Eventually they won't have a choice.

The man's hands are still gentle, pushing back the hood of Kurt's cloak, smoothing their hair, thumbing away their tears with cold fingers. When he leans back for a moment, there's no change in expression between that tenderness and the sudden crack of his open palm against Kurt's cheek, slapping them hard, then immediately backhanding the other side of their face.

"I asked you a question," he says calmly, like he hadn't just struck them hard enough to leave immediate, vivid red marks. "When I ask a question, I expect a "yes sir" or a "no sir". Understand?"
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