[ Godric is something Trevor hasn't experienced since perhaps early childhood -- peace. The sorrow, the regret, the loneliness and longing is all familiar, but the calm that comes over him is foreign as this city. Is this what it feels like? That gentle serenity has his fingers curling around Godric's hand seeking more of it, to bury himself inside the cocoon of self assuredness. It's terrifying and comforting and absolutely overwhelming, and so for a long moment he holds on.
Unfortunately, where Godric is at the eye of life's storm, tranquil and silent and certain, Trevor is himself the hurricane.
His emotions are tumultuous and powerful, chaotic and confused. A cacophony of fear and misery borne of grief, loneliness, violence, a lifetime spent fighting to survive on his own against what for most would be insurmountable odds. He feels adrift here, is latching on to this vampire as something he knows how to face, to behave around, and is angry at Godric for defying his expectations. There's that urge to set the universe right as he knows it, a deep need to belong and have purpose protecting people because if he's not a protector, he's just the same worthless cynical drunk he was for nearly half his life. He is alone and he's afraid and everything is different from what he knows. All he wants is a friend, some peace and guidance. All he wants is to be sure of who he is again. There is goodness there, so pure it would be as blinding like the midday sun if it weren't covered by the dark clouds of everything else.
He does not hate Godric. He hates the evil he knows, that he's seen and fought and been scarred by. The vampires of his world thrive on chaos and pain, but Trevor knows that's not all they are. Someone proved that to him, not too long ago. There's fondness there and in it hope for these two, if only he'd let there be. But his need for something he understands is more consuming.
Also he's drunk, which surely the vampire could smell and see in the flush on his skin, but somehow not dulled by it.
Then it's over, Trevor yanking his hand back as if he's been burned, expression unreadable. There are tears shining in the corners of his eyes, but they don't fall. He blinks them away and stares at Godric as if trying to make sense of a puzzle he's only first laid eyes on. ]
You're hungry even now, Godric.
[ There's no accusation in his voice, though. Maybe a hint of concern. ]
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2020-01-21 06:43 pm (UTC)Unfortunately, where Godric is at the eye of life's storm, tranquil and silent and certain, Trevor is himself the hurricane.
His emotions are tumultuous and powerful, chaotic and confused. A cacophony of fear and misery borne of grief, loneliness, violence, a lifetime spent fighting to survive on his own against what for most would be insurmountable odds. He feels adrift here, is latching on to this vampire as something he knows how to face, to behave around, and is angry at Godric for defying his expectations. There's that urge to set the universe right as he knows it, a deep need to belong and have purpose protecting people because if he's not a protector, he's just the same worthless cynical drunk he was for nearly half his life. He is alone and he's afraid and everything is different from what he knows. All he wants is a friend, some peace and guidance. All he wants is to be sure of who he is again. There is goodness there, so pure it would be as blinding like the midday sun if it weren't covered by the dark clouds of everything else.
He does not hate Godric. He hates the evil he knows, that he's seen and fought and been scarred by. The vampires of his world thrive on chaos and pain, but Trevor knows that's not all they are. Someone proved that to him, not too long ago. There's fondness there and in it hope for these two, if only he'd let there be. But his need for something he understands is more consuming.
Also he's drunk, which surely the vampire could smell and see in the flush on his skin, but somehow not dulled by it.
Then it's over, Trevor yanking his hand back as if he's been burned, expression unreadable. There are tears shining in the corners of his eyes, but they don't fall. He blinks them away and stares at Godric as if trying to make sense of a puzzle he's only first laid eyes on. ]
You're hungry even now, Godric.
[ There's no accusation in his voice, though. Maybe a hint of concern. ]