[Alucard was ready to stand right up and get moving but the brush of Sypha's hand against his knee sends him spiraling out in about fifty directions at once.
He wanted that, at one time, didn't he? To have her hands just gently running over his, or over his shoulders to say hello as she walked by him in the library or the kitchen, to be friendly and there and simply herself in all ways that mattered? He had hoped for anyone that might have such a possibility, and the last time he had that hope, he had been bound and then did the worst thing he could think to do. There's that memory again, surfacing, the sword hovering and--
--Problem at hand. Only the problem at hand. If only to force himself not to melt down in front of Sypha again, relapsing again. Alucard knows he isn't even out of that pit, but he's losing his grip.
He wants to scream. He wants to gnaw his own arm off.
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He wanted that, at one time, didn't he? To have her hands just gently running over his, or over his shoulders to say hello as she walked by him in the library or the kitchen, to be friendly and there and simply herself in all ways that mattered? He had hoped for anyone that might have such a possibility, and the last time he had that hope, he had been bound and then did the worst thing he could think to do. There's that memory again, surfacing, the sword hovering and--
--Problem at hand. Only the problem at hand. If only to force himself not to melt down in front of Sypha again, relapsing again. Alucard knows he isn't even out of that pit, but he's losing his grip.
He wants to scream. He wants to gnaw his own arm off.
All he says is:]
Perhaps we need to be literal with guidance here.