skeletonkeay: (Default)
Gerard "Gerry" Keay ([personal profile] skeletonkeay) wrote in [community profile] ph_logs 2025-04-08 09:34 pm (UTC)

"I get that a lot," Gerry jokes dryly. There's no humor in it.

Air fills his lungs slowly, then releases. He doesn't have the heart to tell her how fucking stupid he thinks war is. Senseless violence for violence's sake, breaking the minds and bodies of the poor or the misguided or the unlucky so that the rich assholes playing with them like toys could use their lives as a dickwaving contest. Meanwhile the people actually fighting gain nothing but a fear so deep it birthed the Slaughter. It disgusts him. Perhaps York was right. But that's no comfort to her now.

She cared about him, and she lost him. And now Gerry stands here as a cheap substitute. One that resents what she stood for.

The lighter... The way she stared at his hands when he would stim with it...

Fuck.

"I think I understand why you hate me so much. And why you keep talking to me in spite of it," he says quietly. "I'm sorry."

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