[ As fast as he comes to embrace them both in his arms, the sight of this familiar glow radiate off of Tidus is enough to unsettle him to the point of wrenching his hand away from his shoulder before the magic can do a thing. Pushing them both away with a shove, giving them distance, lending them the space needed to see Roland's eyes wide in fear that's never been there ever before. Not on this train. Not with them, who he tries to hide from, the worst parts of him undeserving of their shared light. Roland doesn't look like the same man they met with in earlier days, and it's more than just how disheveled he has become, more scrapes and bruises and blood staining his forearm.
It's the little things, more than anything.
It's Roland's heaving breaths, the darting of his eyes like he can't meet either men, not Inigo's soft concern nor Tidus's assertive one. The slight tremble by the top of his lip, or how he is trying to open his mouth to say something but at the last minute decides, he can't. ]
Please, don't - don't heal me. Not with that, not -
[ He hears himself scramble for the words though his head is not helping in the slightest to be coherent. He hates this. The sensations are too overwhelming. Roland coughs, tight in the throat as three potions drank in succession begin to brew wrongly in the pit of his stomach. But he'd rather take more of that than see this magic, Tidus's magic, in front of Inigo too who would one day, without his watch, without this damn train!
His arm, injured as it is, shakes as a palm reaches out to lean against the tree. His other hand covers his mouth. Roland stares at the emptied bottles discarded by the roots. Litter. Proof. ]
...Give me a second. J-Just let me - [ He coughs again, though his shoulders are quick to rise and fall with the timing of breath catching up and slowing down all at once. Push it back, he says. Push it all the way back. ]
Give me another potion, if you have one. Or an elixir. A salve. Anything. I-I can't remember what I put in my Arms Band right now. I'm sorry, just anything but - [ He shakes his head. Denying it. Refuses it. He won't see it. He won't.
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[ As fast as he comes to embrace them both in his arms, the sight of this familiar glow radiate off of Tidus is enough to unsettle him to the point of wrenching his hand away from his shoulder before the magic can do a thing. Pushing them both away with a shove, giving them distance, lending them the space needed to see Roland's eyes wide in fear that's never been there ever before. Not on this train. Not with them, who he tries to hide from, the worst parts of him undeserving of their shared light. Roland doesn't look like the same man they met with in earlier days, and it's more than just how disheveled he has become, more scrapes and bruises and blood staining his forearm.
It's the little things, more than anything.
It's Roland's heaving breaths, the darting of his eyes like he can't meet either men, not Inigo's soft concern nor Tidus's assertive one. The slight tremble by the top of his lip, or how he is trying to open his mouth to say something but at the last minute decides, he can't. ]
Please, don't - don't heal me. Not with that, not -
[ He hears himself scramble for the words though his head is not helping in the slightest to be coherent. He hates this. The sensations are too overwhelming. Roland coughs, tight in the throat as three potions drank in succession begin to brew wrongly in the pit of his stomach. But he'd rather take more of that than see this magic, Tidus's magic, in front of Inigo too who would one day, without his watch, without this damn train!
His arm, injured as it is, shakes as a palm reaches out to lean against the tree. His other hand covers his mouth. Roland stares at the emptied bottles discarded by the roots. Litter. Proof. ]
...Give me a second. J-Just let me - [ He coughs again, though his shoulders are quick to rise and fall with the timing of breath catching up and slowing down all at once. Push it back, he says. Push it all the way back. ]
Give me another potion, if you have one. Or an elixir. A salve. Anything. I-I can't remember what I put in my Arms Band right now. I'm sorry, just anything but - [ He shakes his head. Denying it. Refuses it. He won't see it. He won't.
Roland grows silent in waiting. ]