What a curious ability, this Attuned bond was, that I might be comforted by the literal emotional strength of others, that others might share their feelings, their deepest and most true selves through this empathic and telepathic connection. It is a lot to take in, and yet, I find it natural, ultimately, I allow myself to fall in the embrace of emotions that Loren beams out.
It is a sign of how exhausted I am that these things do not trouble me as much as they normally would. It is not just physical exhaustion too - usually I only allow my emotions to be shared so openly when I am mentally and emotionally drained as well (which I definitely am).
I accept the refill gladly, holding the cup in both hands - I don't often numb pain with alcohol, but until I had time to learn more about this place, it was a ready and available solution I was willing to partake in. I take another long sip, not as deep as before though - I pace myself a bit more now, the effects of my last draught evidently settling in, as a general numbness soothes mental and physical body.
The generosity of those I find myself in company with is almost as overwhelming as everything else - in my profession, where I am the one providing comfort and help to others, I didn't often find myself on the receiving end of it (in fact, I would avoid wherever possible because I hate it, I hate this feeling of helplessness, of needing attention and assistance).
I breathe in deep as Loren's hand falls on my shoulder, not pushing it away, just letting it be. It's hard to accept help, and yet, I cannot deny my definitive need for it.
"A place to rest for the night would be great," I murmur after a beat of silence, of thoughts whirling. "I… don't know how I'll ever repay you. But I intend to." I followed up my request with assurances, hoping I convey clearly that I regret any inconvenience my predicament has placed them in, and my sincere desire to ensure they are not impacted long-term for it.
It is a sign of how exhausted I am that these things do not trouble me as much as they normally would. It is not just physical exhaustion too - usually I only allow my emotions to be shared so openly when I am mentally and emotionally drained as well (which I definitely am).
I accept the refill gladly, holding the cup in both hands - I don't often numb pain with alcohol, but until I had time to learn more about this place, it was a ready and available solution I was willing to partake in. I take another long sip, not as deep as before though - I pace myself a bit more now, the effects of my last draught evidently settling in, as a general numbness soothes mental and physical body.
The generosity of those I find myself in company with is almost as overwhelming as everything else - in my profession, where I am the one providing comfort and help to others, I didn't often find myself on the receiving end of it (in fact, I would avoid wherever possible because I hate it, I hate this feeling of helplessness, of needing attention and assistance).
I breathe in deep as Loren's hand falls on my shoulder, not pushing it away, just letting it be. It's hard to accept help, and yet, I cannot deny my definitive need for it.
"A place to rest for the night would be great," I murmur after a beat of silence, of thoughts whirling. "I… don't know how I'll ever repay you. But I intend to." I followed up my request with assurances, hoping I convey clearly that I regret any inconvenience my predicament has placed them in, and my sincere desire to ensure they are not impacted long-term for it.
Chulane
