![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
Marco's Heart
You find yourself in a bright white, circular room. It's nearly empty; too bare, almost clinically so. But the bareness of it means that what is visible here stands out:
A podium in the center, where a familiar figure sits, head buried in his hands. Three paths running from the podium to three different spots near the edges of the room - not corners; circles don't have corners - where three doors leading seemingly nowhere stand with no regard for their complete lack of structural support.
It doesn't take you long to figure out where you are, does it? You only have to decide where to start.
no subject
This is, as far as you can tell, the closest he has ever sounded to crying.
"Oh, you shouldn't be here... Am I being punished...?"
no subject
...it's to help.
no subject
A slow nod. It would be impressive that Marco manages it without uncurling himself, if it didn't look so uncomfortable.
"Ah. It'll help. It'll help you see."
no subject
See... what?
no subject
One of his hands squeezes the knuckles of the other one.
"I'm sorry. I was terrified of hurting you."
no subject
...But I can handle things... on my own.
no subject
no subject
…I know how much it hurts. It’s scary what people might think… when they know mor about you…
no subject
"Whatever... Whatever happens to me... I deserve it."
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
It seems he doesn't want to argue the point with her any longer.
no subject
...I'm going to look around now. Take care...
no subject
But where does she go?
no subject
no subject