[Atem doesn't want to pull his eyecaps off. He doesn't want to take off a very thick outer layer of what feels for all the world like cornea, that his mammal memories and instincts is telling him shouldn't separate from the rest of his eye.
But he feels a hand on his face, warm and careful, and Atem's too-rapid breathing slows. Underneath the eye-caps, like a leviathan passing below a clear layer of Arctic ice, his irises go to Ryou.
Atem doesn't think Ryou is sharing his pain right now, he doesn't see his own anxiety reflected in Ryou's face, and he trusts Ryou will ask first, but...the effect isn't all that different.]
I'll do it.
[But Atem's left hand comes up to where Ryou's is, on his face, and takes it, and grips it. He'd rather do this one-handed with Ryou's hand in his than use two hands alone.
He's not finding a way to get through this alone, this time. This isn't as bad as dying, isn't as bad as the fog form, because he's not by himself.
Atem's glad about that.
He sets his jaw and starts to peel it up. Atem doesn't want to do this. But did he want to stick his fingers in the scorpion sneaker? Did he want to bring a knife down towards his own hand, hoping it cut only the stack of bills instead of delicate tendon and bone? He'd chosen to put himself into those situations, that was the difference, but he's in this one now, and he'll have to find the strength of will to do it. Up, over the chin, over the nostrils, up the cheeks...]
even moooore eye stuff, with a hand stuff bonus round
But he feels a hand on his face, warm and careful, and Atem's too-rapid breathing slows. Underneath the eye-caps, like a leviathan passing below a clear layer of Arctic ice, his irises go to Ryou.
Atem doesn't think Ryou is sharing his pain right now, he doesn't see his own anxiety reflected in Ryou's face, and he trusts Ryou will ask first, but...the effect isn't all that different.]
I'll do it.
[But Atem's left hand comes up to where Ryou's is, on his face, and takes it, and grips it. He'd rather do this one-handed with Ryou's hand in his than use two hands alone.
He's not finding a way to get through this alone, this time. This isn't as bad as dying, isn't as bad as the fog form, because he's not by himself.
Atem's glad about that.
He sets his jaw and starts to peel it up. Atem doesn't want to do this. But did he want to stick his fingers in the scorpion sneaker? Did he want to bring a knife down towards his own hand, hoping it cut only the stack of bills instead of delicate tendon and bone? He'd chosen to put himself into those situations, that was the difference, but he's in this one now, and he'll have to find the strength of will to do it. Up, over the chin, over the nostrils, up the cheeks...]