Bo reached out and grabbed Kartiel’s hands with an iron grip. Words escaped him as the others came up behind him, but he demanded an explanation.
He hadn’t had full vision in almost ten years, and it was bugging him out. It felt right, yet wrong. He’d gotten used to having one eye and learning to live with it.
A remark he’d made earlier - what felt like ages ago, but was probably only a day ago, maybe hours - came back to him. How he’d poked at Kartiel for making a clone body of him but still giving him the one eye, when the least he could’ve done was given him two. But the moment he remembered that it hit him: this was only temporary. The full sight would only last as long as he was in this body, if he survived long enough to see the end of it.
A part of him felt like he should be grateful. Say thank you. But that would’ve felt like a bitter, blatant lie if he let himself say that. Frankly, he didn’t know how to feel. The sensation was overwhelming, and his memory kept recalling that this was how it felt before almost everything about him and his life got turned on its head. It brought back memories of a different time, a different face, and a different Bo.
His hands were tight around Kartiel’s wrists. That probably hurt, but he was more afraid of letting Kartiel go than holding him a little too tightly.
He needed to know why all of this was happening. He was so tired. So, so tired. Why couldn’t all this just be over? Why did things have to keep happening one after another?
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