Forthtelling [Transnistria/public]

((ffff I was wondering about that XD and iPhones have to be the most durable things in the world because I just fell asleep while holding it and woke up the next day to find it in one piece under me :I XD))

He had switched his encouragement to "I'm going to figure this out," Once he had gotten over his own panic. She was shaking so much, he felt like if he didn't hold her tight enough she would shatter.

About to ask if she was alright, noticing the worst of it had passed, he supposed he should have been surprised at that kiss. But... It felt too long in coming and too familiar to be surprised at. Never breaking away from that kiss, he pulled her closer by her waist. Once he was fully out of breath, he pulled back, smiling warmly. "You know... I dont dream of bad things all the time... The rest are all of you."

((Oh god, I have done that so many times; even before the forums, since I used to text rp with a girl in Jersey. XD I think the phone causes me more pain than I cause it.))

When they finally broke off, she rested her head in the nook of his shoulder, also smiling (she couldn't see his, but she could hear the warmth in his voice).

Still sniffling just a little, she responded with a light laugh, "Me, too... Only, I didn't know it was you." She wished now that she'd paid more attention to the dreams, but since she didn't recognize the man in them, there hadn't been much of a reason to commit them to memory. Bits and pieces were coming back to her, though. "I remember seeing you in a uniform... Green, like you said, right?" She didn't add that she never felt too friendly towards him in those particular dreams. She wasn't sure why.

((There's always a few seconds of pure panic when I realize it isn't in the charger XD FFF I remember text rping with friends a few years ago XD it was like a phase lolol))

He stroked her cheek, wiping away the tears she never got to. It had gone from the most terrifying moment he'd had in a while to the calm after the storm-- quiet, warm, calm... But with the sense that things needed to be done. But first things first. He leaned down and kissed her again, lightly, testing to see if he could or not.

Caught up in looking at her, he didn't register her question at first. "Hm?-- Yeah, dark green. Tons of medals. For what, I don't know." He spoke a little proudly about it. His dreams were sometimes violent and sad, but the other ones that placed him in the uniform were full of happiness and potential.

Blushing when he unexpectedly kissed her again, she returned the gesture--once, twice, three times. It would never be enough, nor would it ever get old.

She pondered over his description, figuring that he must have been a soldier of some sort--soldiers were the only people who got medals, right? That sort of thing was not something she was an expert on. But even so, green seemed to be a strange color for a uniform. Then again, what did she know? Although, she recalled that she herself wore a uniform, in those dreams. One of a different sort.

Giggling lightly, she decided to test him to see how well their visions matched up, "Did you see the uniform I wore?"

Ironically, she herself tended to be happiest in those dreams. And yet, she wasn't fond of him, at the same time? It didn't seem to add up at all. She couldn't imagine being happy without him, now.

Well, his question was answered. His prayers were answered, really. He was more than a friend to her now. And with her question, he was vaguely reminded that he fel the same way when he dreamed of her-- in those dreams that contained the odd memories. He dreamt of her all the other times, too. But she didn't need to know that.

Curling a lock of her hair Through his fingers to think, he remembered. "You looked smart-- like a scientist. A labcoat, that was it. And there was always a pencil in your hair." He told her like a parent told a curious child how they were when they were babies. "I remember the pencil well because in the dreams I would ask you a question, try to get you to talk to me... But you never would turn around."

Someone else was in those dreams... Someone alot younger. But he couldn't pinpoint who it was or why they were there. "The most you ever told me was to do my job and leave you alone." He had felt like a boy dejected after he had asked out his first crush... Which, technically that was what happened.

Smiling at first, she nodded at his recounting of her wardrobe, but then blushed in embarrassment as she was reminded of how she wouldn't even give him the time of day in those dreams. So his were exactly like hers, then. She felt a bit mortified at herself, even if it hadn't really happened. There must have been a good reason for it, right? In those dreams, she always felt justified for spurring the attention. She was too busy, or she didn't want a man in uniform, or she just didn't understand the full extent of his sincerity, or...something. It must have been something.

Sometimes, she got the impression that she already had a prior commitment to someone. So, was she already dating? No, that didn't seem right... She tried to remember who the person was, but, as always, she just got an impression not unlike that of a ghost, and an overwhelming sense of sadness. Which consequently always made her stop trying to figure it out.

Still quite pink in the face, she pulled closer to him and murmured, "I'm sorry..." As if the dream were true. "I'll make up for it, now," she kissed his jaw, feeling terrible for having hurt his subconscious feelings.

In those dreams, he did remember the feeling of being dejected, but there was something else, too. Those dreams weren't entirely depressing. There must have been someone else there. A child, maybe? No... couldn't have been. There was a lab, and all sorts of scientific looking things. A child couldn't have been there.

He was brought back to reality when she kissed his jaw, and... apologized? He cradled her face in his hands and touched his forehead to hers, figuring that it was easier to convey his affection through touch. "There's no reason to be sorry, it was just a dream." That they both had over the same content. "And you don't have to make up for things my mind creates on its own." Hers did too, but... he tried not to think about the strange... coincidence? "Besides..." He kissed her, falling victim to those eyes once again. "Even in my dreams, I feel like you're too good for me."

"But I feel bad, because my mind came up with it, too," she said sadly. It felt even worse that he had seen it, as well; if it had only been her, then at least she could have just felt guilty inwardly. It was so embarrassing to know he'd seen her being cold to his earnestness--it was like having a secret shame exposed to the last person you wanted to know.

Too good for him? "No," she disagreed quietly, "I'm very, very lucky to have you." She kissed him between every sentence. "Where would I be, without you, right now?" Again on the jaw. "Stuck in a freak show." On the bridge of his nose. "With no hope." On the lips. "You saved me..." Over and over again. There was so much she wanted to make up for.

He had no idea why she was so distressed over it. If he remembered correctly, in those dreams he seemed quite green, still just a boy and miles away from impressing her any. But... That was then, er... There. He was about to tell her all this, until she kissed him again. And again. And again, finally on his lips. And maybe he could forgo comforting her for now if she really felt she had to make up for their dreams.

After fully drinking in the kiss, he tried to say something but could only return to the kiss. "I don't think... You're as hopeless as you believe..." He pulled her closer, tickling her slightly, trying to relieve any sadness she may have had. "After all... You're bringing a criminal to his knees."

There was no doubt that he thought she was the most beautiful woman he'd ever met. It was something he couldn't explain, but he would argue it to her for as long as it took to get her to see.

She giggled and pushed at his hands in protest to the tickling, proving his attempts to cheer her up successful. ...Until his last comment, that was.

Stopping, she picked up on one word in surprise, "Criminal?"

Of course, the handcuffs were a clue. A big clue, really. But she'd come under the impression that he was too good to be a criminal. So she'd assumed there had been some other explanation. He was probably held unfairly as a prisoner somewhere, once, too. That would explain why he was so keen on helping her to escape upon their first meeting.

Apparently, her hopes had been wrong.

She was laughing and it seemed like the whole ordeal of their shared dreams was over, and he was ready to be kissed more. But he should have assumed he'd say something wrong. He wasn't the smoothest of men, possibly the least of them.

"Well, yes..." He put one of her hands over a manacle. He thought she knew. He knew she knew. But maybe she didn't know why. As long as she didn't ask, he wouldn't say. "There's no need to be concerned, they put me in jail for doing what was right."

To someone who knew what he'd done-- several times, those words would have been chilling. It wasn't why he'd killed them (even though those reasons were as hyperbolic they could be) it was how. He had bludgeoned a man's head in with a steel rod until it was nothing but pulp for grabbing a woman on the street. Strangled another for stealing from a general store. To him they were completely justifiable. To others he knew they weren't. And the last thing he wanted her to think of him as was what he was: a murderer.

She ran her fingers in and out and around the manacle, as if it were just another part of him that she wanted to know. But then, it was, wasn't it? Since he wore them all the time. In the back of her mind, she wondered why he didn't just pull them of himself or have them removed. Surely it couldn't be that hard?

"Oh..." She said timidly, fidgeting a little, "Wh--why...?" She was afraid to ask, she really was. But she had a right to know these things, now that they were in a relationship...right? (Did she want to know?)

Unwillingly, she recalled the Cosim that she saw in some of her other dreams. They were both different then, but that was when he had gray hair...and was also sometimes scary. Those were some of the less clear dreams, but she always knew somehow that this was a much different person than the happy young soldier from before. Was such a dramatic change possible? And why couldn't she just make herself remember that it was only a dream, that it didn't mean anything?

Of course she had to ask. He was quiet for a moment, wondering what to say. If he told her about it in the way that he saw it... she would be afraid of him, at least.

"Before I say anything," He began quietly, taking her hand back into his. "I want you to remember that I would never hurt an innocent person. Not a woman, not a child, not anyone that didn't deserve it." Although, the crimes he found people guilty of were far from deserving death to the normal person. "Sometimes the law doesn't go far enough in setting an example, that's all. A few people have to be... examples."

And if she had voiced her opinion, she would have been right. He could have easily taken off the manacles. "At the same time... I know the weight of human life. And that's what the cuffs are there to show people, that I know what I've done and I carry that burden myself."

His reassurances did the opposite of assuaging her fears; the more he talked, the more pronounced the horror grew in her expression.

"A few people have to be... examples."

The color completely drained from her face, making the twisted red scars stand out in sharp relief, eyes huge with fright. She shouldn't have asked. She should have never asked. A deep chill went down her spine, causing her entire frame to shudder.

"You...killed people?" Her voice was little more than a squeak. She could feel herself being torn: not a half of a minute ago, all she could think of was how good he was and how badly she wanted to return his kindness. Now she was debating whether or not to be terrified of him.

(("Why, you have shed blood?" "Yes, Sonya, which all men shed, which flows and has always flowed in streams, which is spilt like champagne, and for which men are crowned in the Capitol and called the 'benefactors of mankind'"--/SHOT I'msorrythisremindsmesomuchofCrimeandPunishmentandIloveit. XD))

She hadn't reacted as he hoped she would. Not that he expected applause. But more understanding, maybe, from someone who had been under the thumb of the sick and depraved. His grip tightened around her, and his voice became harsh. "You're not listening to me...--"

Then he caught himself. His grip turned loving and comforting as he rested his head on the side of hers again. Maybe the wavelength through his brain would transfer to her, or otherwise he had dug himself a hole he wasn't sure he could climb out of. "Not people, Sofia... I wouldn't dare hurt a person. It's the animals that try to pass off as human. The ones the law forgets." There was pain in his voice, as if there was some great injustice done on him that left such a dark impression. Perhaps it was the events behind the fence. "Would anyone mourn the death of a cold-blooded killer? Of a pervert? These people don't deserve the life they're given. So I take it from them." Since he had surmised there was no god, he was to be their final judgement. He also knew that he had to judge himself. "I know what I'm doing. I know the value of human life. It's priceless and those who take it... They have to lose theirs. Animals have no real worth."

Cosim was afraid to lose her over this. He wasn't sure what he'd do if he did. She had been his everything since he laid eyes on her, and he promised to be her always. "Please try to understand... Please..."

((Lmaooo it does XD Check out what I'm getting in the mail in a few days B) http://www.amazon.co.uk/gp/aw/d.html/ref=redir_mdp_mobile/280-2112007-8913845?a=3939181072 ))

She very nearly whimpered with fright when his words and hold on her suddenly became considerably less gentle. And though she controlled herself from immediately jumping to tears, that didn't mean that the fear wasn't written all over her face.

Everything he was saying was madness. Total madness. Were these his true colors? Of course, she too, had been faced with injustice in her life. Not only as a third-party observer, but as a recipient of it. And while she didn't find any good excuse for it (other than that life was unfair), or forgive the people who committed it, she'd never felt like it was her place to do something about it. For one thing, she couldn't. She was small, weak, blind...it would have been almost laughable if she decided to try and kill someone. So she was forced to come up with her own solution. She couldn't right the problems herself, so the only option was to deal with it. Be miserable and deal with it.

Would she have taken the third choice, were it available? If she were as strong as him? Probably not. She was too timid to even consider something as extreme as ending a life.

That timidity was showing through more conspicuously than ever, right now. Panicking, she nodded fervently (being too scared to speak) at his request to understand his point of view. So that he wouldn't be mad. So that she would stay safe. Because really, despite all this, he was still the only one she had. And the side of her that wasn't frightened out of it's wits at the moment still cared for him quite deeply.

And she wasn't sure, but wasn't one of his own friends quite the pervert? Why was he still around?

((aljdslfkjdslsldfj, that is awesome--and it's in three languages ffffuuuuu--/JEALOUSYYYYYYY))

Not even the people he'd killed looked as frightened as she did. He held her tightly again, not in the aggressive way he had before. Kissing her forehead gently, he murmured into her hair, "I would never hurt you, you know that?"

She had to know that. He didn't understand why she would be afraid, didn't she trust him? And then he felt a kind of anger-- not enough to say anything, but the fact that she was judging him without knowing what happened to make him this way made his brow crease in a kind of disappointment, but she was unable to see it and it was gone in a moment.

And for the record, as soon as he ever sees Itakshir out of line--

((It's these two guys that earn the trust of the government and transcribe all their propaganda radio XD they're Austrian too B) ))

Hesitating at first, she nodded again and embraced him back just as tightly, burying her face in his shirt. The part of her that cared won over, as she knew it always would.

Because of course she had to trust him. What choice did she have? Whether she had feelings for him or not, was afraid of him or not, her life was practically in his hands. She lived in a world that she literally could not survive or even function in without help, and no one was going to take care of her like he did. There was nothing she could do but trust him.

She was talking about Arash, obv. /SHOT

((LMAO, Transi addressing Vienna as 'comrade' is forever canon to my mind, now--))

He was quiet for a while, trying to give her time to calm down and at the same time trying to think of ways he could make their relationship back to normal again. He didn't want to see her scared around him; he didn't want to see her scared at all.

Finally, he decided it was better maybe that she was given time on her own to sor things out, without thinking he was a threat to her life. He kissed her one last time on the temple and detached her from his torso, setting her down in the corner of the truck. "I'll be right back with someone who can take you back to the women's car..."

Would she always be afraid of him? If ever she comforted him again, told him he was a good person-- would it be out of fear? She was blind, essentially he created her world-- well most of it, anyway. If she was afraid of him it would be like keeping her imprisoned. He should never have answered her questions, but he couldn't say no to her.

Two sides were warring within her, it seemed. There was the one that was afraid, who'd been hurt too much physically and emotionally to risk it again. And then there was the one that was falling for him, who was just about ready to slap Sonya. That side didn't usually get a chance to influence her much. But now, it was screaming.

But she wasn't able to decide between the two in time to stop him from setting her down. Her heart dropped right out of her ribcage when he pulled away. Far more than she could ever fear him, she was afraid of being left behind by him.

Her mind was too preoccupied at the moment, but if she'd been thinking about it...when her dreams turned to nightmares, it seemed she was always being left behind. When she'd found the boy on the other side of the fence, it was because she'd finally had enough and decided to go looking for those people who left her, to find out where they went.

She found her answers in him. She found out that no one was coming back.

Panicking, she reached for him just as he was turning, and ended up closing her hand on air. "Cosim...! Cosim--" If he wanted her to stay put, he was going to have a hard time convincing her. Groping around, she attempted to follow him purely through her hearing.

He was already part of the way up the gravel road to the caravans, hands in his pockets, feeling that same dejectedness. He had never felt bad about what he'd done before. She was making him second guess himself, and that was the last thing he wanted. In a childhood where he was given no clear answers-- why was with a family where he felt he didn't belong? Why could someone treat one child in such a way but care well for all the rest? What was right and what was really wrong? He had set his own boundaries, spent in those nights in the dank closet he shared with his shadow while his siblings had rooms of their own. He created his own world, far isolated from how people like Sonya thought-- any normal person, really. No one had ever told him otherwise. She was the first person to really put a crack in his own personal globe.

He turned when he heard his name and saw her taking cautious yet anxious steps towards him, and even though he wished it were for some other reason... Perhaps she just hadn't heard his instructions. "You don't have to follow me, Sofia," He told her calmly, his aggression defeated by her fear. "Stay put, I said someone would comeget you..." He wanted to go back to those moments between her storms of terror, but now... It didn't seem possible, or he didn't deserve it, or both.

She'd been extremely worried that she was going the wrong way. When she had only her hearing and a trail as light as the sound of footsteps to go on, she tended to second-guess herself a lot.

And then she feared that even if she were going the right way, she wasn't going to catch up with him. It was awfully terrifying to run when you couldn't see a thing, but she knew he'd already gotten a head start. On top of that, she kept having to stop every few steps to get her already uncertain bearings straight.

So when he answered her cry, it brought a great deal of relief. 

Heeding not a single one of his words, she sprinted towards him with her hands outstretched, delighted just to have caught up with him. The second she got her arms around him, she intended to tell him that she didn't want someone else, that she only wanted him an that she was sorry for being afraid.

But she didn't get a chance to, because she ran right past him by mistake.

She was still walking? He was thinking of catching her, but he didn't know where she was going. And if she was going back on her own, who was he to stop her if she didn't want anyone to help?

Once she started sprinting after he told her to stay, he realized he must have been wrong. And the alarm went off in his head; he thought of all the ways she could get hurt. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, he knew (for some reason) that her hurting herself would be much worse than any other person.

But before he could stop thinking and catch her, she sprinted past him. He may have been stronger than her, but she was definitely faster.

"SOFIA--" He started running after her, but knew he could never catch up. Not wanting to wait until she heard him or hurt herself, as soon as he reached her enough, he hooked her waist with his arm and pulled her back. He hadn't had any balance to begin with when he caught her, he toppled over the edge of the road and into the tall grasses.

He had mowed down a line of the stalks before he stopped rolling. Finally he opened up his arms to see if she was alright. Except for a few pieces of grass in her hair she was relatively okay.

"I told you... You could stay where you were..." He said breathlessly. He hadn't known going into taking care of her that blind people were so much fuss. Maybe it was just her.

It was almost definitely just her.

Something wasn't right--his voice hadn't seemed to be this far away. Why hadn't she run into him by now? She heard him call out to her, but before she could put two-and-two together, he yanked her out of her flight and the both of them went tumbling out of control.

Under any other circumstances, she would have been terrified (imagine rolling over and over at high speeds without being able to see, with only half of an idea of what happened), but she just felt relieved. Relieved to be in his arms.

Once they came to a halt, she pulled herself up closer to him and, unable to remember what she'd planned to say, came out with a rather tiny, "Don't leave me...!" Immediately, her face turned red; she coupdn't blurt out anything less pathetic than that?

At first he groaned tiredly, throwing his palms up onto his eyes. It had been one big mess. He seemed exasperated, irritated... But all he could do was laugh. And he did so until his lungs were began to hurt.

Did she really know she was blind? Or was she really just pretending? Because if someone had told him, 'watch out for the blind girl-- she can get out of your hands real fast', he would have laughed. And yet she was the one telling him not to leave.

"You were the one who was running away!" He laughed back, pulling the grasses from her hair just like he had the night she had run away from the car in fear of him. Cosim had caught her then, too. his hand drifted down to her cheek. "I'm sorry I scare you."