I asked him if he'd remember me like all the other people he's lost. He said yes. I hoped doing it himself would ensure that to be the truth. But... I suppose I'll never know unless I can talk to him, the real Shinji-kun, once more. An uncertainty created by distances between hearts and people.
[There's more to it though. But he doesn't have the words or the ability to take the feeling out of himself and examine it. There's something unsatisfactory about it all. There's longing, certainly, that's a feeling that Kaworu has come to understand but there's that twisting weight he feels when he thinks about the Leviathan and the Old Man. The idea that he'd caused pain unjustly. But how could it be so? Shinji Ikari would have to kill the angel to save mankind. There's no other choice.
His heart is still too young to understand why regret is starting to seep into those memories like a stain.
There's a soft sigh, one of those ones that Kaworu does when he's contemplating something that he can't pin down, before he reaches over and pulls Paul into an embrace, arms around his neck and face resting against his shoulder. It's not a clinging hold, trying to seek comfort in another, but instead to affirm their presence. He's glad Paul is here with him, and that they can talk, touch, and feel together, even if he may never find answers in the other boy who was on the receiving end of his affection.]
no subject
[There's more to it though. But he doesn't have the words or the ability to take the feeling out of himself and examine it. There's something unsatisfactory about it all. There's longing, certainly, that's a feeling that Kaworu has come to understand but there's that twisting weight he feels when he thinks about the Leviathan and the Old Man. The idea that he'd caused pain unjustly. But how could it be so? Shinji Ikari would have to kill the angel to save mankind. There's no other choice.
His heart is still too young to understand why regret is starting to seep into those memories like a stain.
There's a soft sigh, one of those ones that Kaworu does when he's contemplating something that he can't pin down, before he reaches over and pulls Paul into an embrace, arms around his neck and face resting against his shoulder. It's not a clinging hold, trying to seek comfort in another, but instead to affirm their presence. He's glad Paul is here with him, and that they can talk, touch, and feel together, even if he may never find answers in the other boy who was on the receiving end of his affection.]