It's strange, the feeling of looking at a photograph of a strange animal and feeling as if he were looking at one of the dearest loves of his life.
Strange, but not unwelcome, and he's smiling a little even if he might start crying soon. There's no portrait of Musichetta, no locket or sketch to remember her by, and he's suddenly grateful to the memories of his other-self for this connection, unlikely as it is, temporary as it might be.
Joly takes Legle's hand, fighting the urge to apologize; Bossuet had wanted to see this too, and he loved her, too, and probably there's no way around that without at least a little sting. And their own daemons belong to another world; he can't reach out to hold Guignon, or feel Alcmaeon curling up against Bossuet or his daemon for connection and shared comfort. But he holds Bossuet's hand tight, and has to hope it's enough.
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Date: 30 Jul 2015 00:35 (UTC)Strange, but not unwelcome, and he's smiling a little even if he might start crying soon. There's no portrait of Musichetta, no locket or sketch to remember her by, and he's suddenly grateful to the memories of his other-self for this connection, unlikely as it is, temporary as it might be.
Joly takes Legle's hand, fighting the urge to apologize; Bossuet had wanted to see this too, and he loved her, too, and probably there's no way around that without at least a little sting. And their own daemons belong to another world; he can't reach out to hold Guignon, or feel Alcmaeon curling up against Bossuet or his daemon for connection and shared comfort. But he holds Bossuet's hand tight, and has to hope it's enough.