Korbin couldn't recall that LongNight had ever felt quite this long before. While he had warned Loren once that it had a way of bringing out both the best and worst in people, he had never felt it so keenly himself. Granted, previous years had been spent in the Hale house, with Weaver and Erebor and whatever guests they felt like inviting over. A cozy week, spent in festive moods with singing and storytelling, with good food and drink and a rare chance to just relax.
This year, everything was fundamentally different.
Noah's hand was a warm weight on his shoulder, there and gone again. The lingering touch stirred up far too many emotions, painful and good at the same time. Almost against his own will Korbin found himself relaxing, the dull ache beneath the temples easing as the tremble of his hands subsided.
"I know. In my head I know, though when it comes down to it... at some point it's turned into all or nothing. Either I'm in over my head or won't touch something at all. Was I always like this? It's like I don't even know myself anymore."
His shrug looked lost, helplessly frustrated. What was good? What did it mean to be okay? In this strange new world where Weaver no longer existed, where everything that seemed important no longer was there... where did he even start to figure things out?
"I dont... know how to do this," he said, holding on to the cup like it was a lifeline. "The bar, the pulling myself together... It used to be so easy, and now it's not. What do I do?"
Noah had said he wanted to help, and now Korbin looked up at him like he was hoping for answers. Instructions, even; anything at all that could serve as a starting point. Like it or not, he had regressed into some overgrown child, lashing out whenever it hurt, unable to figure out how to act, what to do, where to go... Not incapable, but utterly lost on where to begin.
This year, everything was fundamentally different.
Noah's hand was a warm weight on his shoulder, there and gone again. The lingering touch stirred up far too many emotions, painful and good at the same time. Almost against his own will Korbin found himself relaxing, the dull ache beneath the temples easing as the tremble of his hands subsided.
"I know. In my head I know, though when it comes down to it... at some point it's turned into all or nothing. Either I'm in over my head or won't touch something at all. Was I always like this? It's like I don't even know myself anymore."
His shrug looked lost, helplessly frustrated. What was good? What did it mean to be okay? In this strange new world where Weaver no longer existed, where everything that seemed important no longer was there... where did he even start to figure things out?
"I dont... know how to do this," he said, holding on to the cup like it was a lifeline. "The bar, the pulling myself together... It used to be so easy, and now it's not. What do I do?"
Noah had said he wanted to help, and now Korbin looked up at him like he was hoping for answers. Instructions, even; anything at all that could serve as a starting point. Like it or not, he had regressed into some overgrown child, lashing out whenever it hurt, unable to figure out how to act, what to do, where to go... Not incapable, but utterly lost on where to begin.
In loving memory of when I gave a shit
KORBIN
HALE
HALE
