[The sorrow wraps around him like a midsummer heat. Every time one of their teammates has broken down and Kavinsky had no choice but to feel his own heart squeezed. He spent so much of his life refraining from empathy. He clutched at those that reminded him of himself, the lonely and the marvelous. But here, it doesn't matter if they share anything in common but the Nest. Their pain becomes his pain. Their tears wet his eyes. He blinks a few times, warding the misery off with a firm contempt.
They're both weaving rapidly--her, the sadness, him, everyone's resolve joined to his own.
He flings himself down onto his feet, closes the gap, grabs for her face. If she doesn't strike him, in one way or another, he will kiss her.]
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They're both weaving rapidly--her, the sadness, him, everyone's resolve joined to his own.
He flings himself down onto his feet, closes the gap, grabs for her face. If she doesn't strike him, in one way or another, he will kiss her.]