[Emmet's carried the weight of his choices on his back through countless lives and he will keep carrying it - and he's not sure what he expects here, in trying to share it with Sylvain. He can't expect him to help carry the burden, and if he were him he would be - so furious. So that's what he expects, righteously so - and it's why he leans against Sylvie's touch and briefly tips up his chin to stretch the skin of his throat taut beneath Sylvie's lips.
He could let it go. Let himself be talked down into false hope, and keep sparing Sylvie the reality of it. Is he really helping, the longer he holds on to this? He loses either way, and he just doesn't know what to do to spare Sylvie from the worst of it. So after a beat, tempting as it might be, he decides he can't just... dwell on it later. He brings up his own hand to Sylvain's throat, fingers splayed and his thumb against his jaw to pull him away from his neck and back up to an even gaze. He stares into his eyes for the longest beat, and his voice is exceptionally thin when he says:]
I've never seen a future where we win. We lose, we'll always lose. There was never any other way, than to keep throwing ourselves... to keep trying. That is all we can do. I've seen it, just... cycle after cycle. It'll never change.
[Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he hasn't seen everything, but...]
It was this, or nothing. For everyone, everywhere.
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[Emmet's carried the weight of his choices on his back through countless lives and he will keep carrying it - and he's not sure what he expects here, in trying to share it with Sylvain. He can't expect him to help carry the burden, and if he were him he would be - so furious. So that's what he expects, righteously so - and it's why he leans against Sylvie's touch and briefly tips up his chin to stretch the skin of his throat taut beneath Sylvie's lips.
He could let it go. Let himself be talked down into false hope, and keep sparing Sylvie the reality of it. Is he really helping, the longer he holds on to this? He loses either way, and he just doesn't know what to do to spare Sylvie from the worst of it. So after a beat, tempting as it might be, he decides he can't just... dwell on it later. He brings up his own hand to Sylvain's throat, fingers splayed and his thumb against his jaw to pull him away from his neck and back up to an even gaze. He stares into his eyes for the longest beat, and his voice is exceptionally thin when he says:]
I've never seen a future where we win. We lose, we'll always lose. There was never any other way, than to keep throwing ourselves... to keep trying. That is all we can do. I've seen it, just... cycle after cycle. It'll never change.
[Maybe he's wrong. Maybe he hasn't seen everything, but...]
It was this, or nothing. For everyone, everywhere.