[It's hard to hear Jonas sound like this and know that it's his fault. There's a cold rock of dread in his stomach that has only grown over the course of their conversation, aware this will change something irrevocably. Maybe that's for the best. Isn't that what he was trying to achieve during his fight against Noctis anyway?
But he doesn't want to hear the desperation in Jonas's words, in that confession — best friends. Cain doesn't feel like he belongs in such a position, but what little he's come to know of Jonas's circumstances... makes him believe Jonas means it.
I need to live better. Cain wants that to come true for him, no matter what it takes.]
Okay. I get it. It won't happen again.
[There's not much more left to say, but he doesn't feel right being the first one to end it. So — he just hangs there in that breathing silence.]
( There's nothing left to say. They've touched on everything they needed to. Though Jonas feels indescribably worked up about the entire ordeal, he's glad to get this particular conversation out of the way, since it's only going to be more difficult from here on in.
Cain lingers guiltily on the line, and Jonas waits. Maybe to test him. Maybe to try to calm down. )
... You can do it. Tell me you can do it, then hang up and prove it.
[He wonders if it would have been easier had Jonas been angry with him and refused to engage any further. If there was a quick severing between them, as it was with Abel, a decision certain enough to deny hope — because at least he'd know how to deal with that. He's been dealing with himself for a long time.
But when Jonas offers that chance, and more than that demands the proof of Cain's intent, there's a fragile moment he's not sure it will be possible. Maybe he should just hang up. Maybe he should write everything off and go back to the existence he's so accustomed, alone, surviving. If he destroys it with his own hands, he has someone to blame.
... And then he thinks about all of their conversations, all the tender attempts at companionship by Jonas. The glimpses of understanding by Noctis.
The two of them are worth it.]
Ya mogu eto sdelat'. [A quiet confession in Russian, as if he needs to hear it that way first. He doesn't believe in himself, but if Jonas does, then maybe—] I can. I'll do it.
[There's a rough exhalation before the call cuts out.]
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no subject
But he doesn't want to hear the desperation in Jonas's words, in that confession — best friends. Cain doesn't feel like he belongs in such a position, but what little he's come to know of Jonas's circumstances... makes him believe Jonas means it.
I need to live better. Cain wants that to come true for him, no matter what it takes.]
Okay. I get it. It won't happen again.
[There's not much more left to say, but he doesn't feel right being the first one to end it. So — he just hangs there in that breathing silence.]
no subject
Cain lingers guiltily on the line, and Jonas waits. Maybe to test him. Maybe to try to calm down. )
... You can do it. Tell me you can do it, then hang up and prove it.
no subject
But when Jonas offers that chance, and more than that demands the proof of Cain's intent, there's a fragile moment he's not sure it will be possible. Maybe he should just hang up. Maybe he should write everything off and go back to the existence he's so accustomed, alone, surviving. If he destroys it with his own hands, he has someone to blame.
... And then he thinks about all of their conversations, all the tender attempts at companionship by Jonas. The glimpses of understanding by Noctis.
The two of them are worth it.]
Ya mogu eto sdelat'. [A quiet confession in Russian, as if he needs to hear it that way first. He doesn't believe in himself, but if Jonas does, then maybe—] I can. I'll do it.
[There's a rough exhalation before the call cuts out.]