[honestly, he's thought about leaving more than once, especially in the beginning. laying awake at night wondering how far he could get before being found and inevitably slaughtered. he didn't know how to handle a kid, didn't know how much he'd end up wanting to protect her. he had nothing else but her and the constant drilling of succeed or die. it's not like he had a family to fall back on. the freedom promised afterward had been tempting, but it doesn't feel the same anymore. now he wants to leave with her. to protect her from her fate.
his eyes try to find anywhere but her, steeled glances as she rids herself of the dress. he doesn't know how to offer comfort in the regular sense and his fingers twitch. his gaze falls on the bare skin of her collarbone just briefly, the elegant curve of her neck.
the weight of the conversation is the only thing that brings his focus to her eyes.]
I have thought about it.
[the life that she implies is one that he isn't sure she really knows about. he'd be past the prime of the underground, yet too skilled to be taken back in.]
We would need to leave the country.
[find a ship, disguise themselves. his voice is nearly a whisper, ears listening for any sounds outside of this room. he has nothing, but she has everything. Misha adapts, but he wonders if she could survive living on the run, always looking over her shoulder. he can't protect her forever - that is his hesitation.]
no subject
his eyes try to find anywhere but her, steeled glances as she rids herself of the dress. he doesn't know how to offer comfort in the regular sense and his fingers twitch. his gaze falls on the bare skin of her collarbone just briefly, the elegant curve of her neck.
the weight of the conversation is the only thing that brings his focus to her eyes.]
I have thought about it.
[the life that she implies is one that he isn't sure she really knows about. he'd be past the prime of the underground, yet too skilled to be taken back in.]
We would need to leave the country.
[find a ship, disguise themselves. his voice is nearly a whisper, ears listening for any sounds outside of this room. he has nothing, but she has everything. Misha adapts, but he wonders if she could survive living on the run, always looking over her shoulder. he can't protect her forever - that is his hesitation.]