[Suddenly, it feels like something has driven all the air from Diarmuid's chest. He presses his hands flat against the table for a moment and then curls his fingers inward, nails digging into the wood. Focus. Breathe in. Out. Push away the many images that pop into his head of having to watch Lisa Lisa, Oscar, his children, any number of other people he has loved over his life go through such a thing.
He hates how vivid his imagination paints those images.
How would if feel to have your everything taken away like that? Rage. Hate. Red. Black. It would drive most people to madness. He's tasted that kind of madness before and feels it cloud in around his senses for a brief moment before he shoves it away.
Is Tim what Diarmuid would have become if he had never pulled himself out of the madness Kayneth's betrayal plunged him into?]
I-
[Diarmuid pauses, trying to find the right way to phrase his question.]
no subject
He hates how vivid his imagination paints those images.
How would if feel to have your everything taken away like that? Rage. Hate. Red. Black. It would drive most people to madness. He's tasted that kind of madness before and feels it cloud in around his senses for a brief moment before he shoves it away.
Is Tim what Diarmuid would have become if he had never pulled himself out of the madness Kayneth's betrayal plunged him into?]
I-
[Diarmuid pauses, trying to find the right way to phrase his question.]
Is that boyfriend one of you or is he...?
[Yeah, he can't bring himself to finish that.]