[ okay, that. that does it. that is the little extra weight needed for falco to take the plunge. it’s not a cascading one, at least— it’s quiet and mild, but still, they are tears. falco inhales with a shake, and once he finds the room to exhale, clearly attempting to keep at least some control over himself, beads roll down the curve of his cheeks. he sniffs better before his words, so he doesn’t need to pause in between them to say, surprisingly soft as he can’t hold the eye contact for too long: ]
You sound just like Colt, [ it’s not in way of speaking. it’s voice. and now that he’s realized what he’s hearing, or how close it is to his memory, oh— oh, it hurts. it stings but embraces him warmly all the same. the boy can’t help a hitch in his breathing, a hiccup between trying to hold it in just to say: ] I’m sorry—
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You sound just like Colt, [ it’s not in way of speaking. it’s voice. and now that he’s realized what he’s hearing, or how close it is to his memory, oh— oh, it hurts. it stings but embraces him warmly all the same. the boy can’t help a hitch in his breathing, a hiccup between trying to hold it in just to say: ] I’m sorry—