[ he lets go of her and steps back with a huff. it's no use reasoning with her. she's stubborn on the best of days and sorrow's influence is just going to make that even worse. it's frustrating.
(sometimes, cullen wonders if he doesn't do a good job giving rage a fair bit of power all by himself.)
running a hand through his hair, he paces the length of the living room. ] And you think I don't live with the same thing? The guilt and knowledge that good people have died--and worse--because I was weak? If you can forgive me the atrocities I've committed, you should be able to forgive yourself.
[ no... no, this is not where he wanted to go with this. cullen grimaces. ]
No. [ Cecily replies, expecting a rueful bitterness and surprised to hear only exhaustion in her own voice. ] Which is why I wrote you in the first place.
[ The spike of regret ebbs, lowering to its usual flatline of late. The guilt just ripples there beneath the surface, but she isn't so clouded as to keep this on when it isn't going to accomplish anything. She'd said her piece, and so had he. ]
Maybe we can just forgive each other and move on. [ She murmurs, casting her gaze to poor, confused Pup. ] Until...
[ Until their thoughts and feelings aren't so amplified. The Inquisitor brushes some hair from her face, finishing the routine of getting in the door, eventually settling into a chair in quiet musing. ]
I miss the sunrises of Skyhold. [ She says suddenly, wistfully. ]
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(sometimes, cullen wonders if he doesn't do a good job giving rage a fair bit of power all by himself.)
running a hand through his hair, he paces the length of the living room. ] And you think I don't live with the same thing? The guilt and knowledge that good people have died--and worse--because I was weak? If you can forgive me the atrocities I've committed, you should be able to forgive yourself.
[ no... no, this is not where he wanted to go with this. cullen grimaces. ]
We're not going to agree on this, are we?
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[ The spike of regret ebbs, lowering to its usual flatline of late. The guilt just ripples there beneath the surface, but she isn't so clouded as to keep this on when it isn't going to accomplish anything. She'd said her piece, and so had he. ]
Maybe we can just forgive each other and move on. [ She murmurs, casting her gaze to poor, confused Pup. ] Until...
[ Until their thoughts and feelings aren't so amplified. The Inquisitor brushes some hair from her face, finishing the routine of getting in the door, eventually settling into a chair in quiet musing. ]
I miss the sunrises of Skyhold. [ She says suddenly, wistfully. ]