[ Sorry, Rosinante, Part 2: The Electric Boogaloo. Several things will happen in the next few seconds.
First, before Sora can stop himself, his hand on his glass will squeeze so tightly that a fine spiderweb filigree of cracks will appear through it. He catches himself in time, looks down and lets go, not really seeing it. It doesn't seem to be in danger of falling apart, but it is unusable as a glass, now.
Second, he'll look a bit sick. Meeting Riku on the beach yesterday did help clarify a lot of things for Sora. He's pretty sure he knows where he stands on that front. It's just that where he stands hurts a bit more than he's willing to let on. Unfortunately, he's never been able to hide his feelings very well.
Third... That was Sora. The one Jason had mentioned the other day. That was him. The other him. The real him. The real Sora?
... He vanished?
... It takes a hot second for him to register reality. He looks at his hand. The glass hadn't come apart, but it did leave small shards in his palm and fingers, pressed into his skin like tiny cut gems. ]
... Oh, the glass. I - that was my fault, I'm sorry -
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First, before Sora can stop himself, his hand on his glass will squeeze so tightly that a fine spiderweb filigree of cracks will appear through it. He catches himself in time, looks down and lets go, not really seeing it. It doesn't seem to be in danger of falling apart, but it is unusable as a glass, now.
Second, he'll look a bit sick. Meeting Riku on the beach yesterday did help clarify a lot of things for Sora. He's pretty sure he knows where he stands on that front. It's just that where he stands hurts a bit more than he's willing to let on. Unfortunately, he's never been able to hide his feelings very well.
Third... That was Sora. The one Jason had mentioned the other day. That was him. The other him. The real him.
The real Sora?... He vanished?
... It takes a hot second for him to register reality. He looks at his hand. The glass hadn't come apart, but it did leave small shards in his palm and fingers, pressed into his skin like tiny cut gems. ]
... Oh, the glass. I - that was my fault, I'm sorry -