That makes him freeze, the idea that he's a burden, a responsibility instead of the protector and defender he's meant to be hits him with the force of one of his own spells, knocking the air from him and rendering speech impossible. He stares at Chris, wide-eyed and stricken, unable to even step back for the hand wound in his shirt.
He wants to draw himself up. To use his bulk and his height to cow Chris into backing down, to seeing he's wrong and Hawke has to atone for this, for leading two of those he cares for most into a doomed quest, but he can't even do that, can't fight against the very clear lines his boyfriend has drawn. The disapproval. And the very idea that he could ever push Chris into backing off, that he should ever, sends a lance of nausea and shame through him.
"You are going back on your word."
He does pull away, then. Steps backwards onto the porch and all but stumbles at the front steps hitting his heels. He's trapped. He's useless and powerless and it's hard to think suddenly, hard to breath. Where Chris' hand was once at the neck of his shirt he brings his own up, as if he can force more air into his lungs by it being there. He gasps, wheezing and doubling over as he tries to pull his mana to him, tries to pull that familiar chill energy into himself like a security blanket and instead grasps at nothing.
There's nothing.
"I-I can't- I-" He's shaking, hands and shoulders quaking, not sure what he's trying to say but only that he doesn't have the breath to say it for the weight of responsibility on his chest, a crushing weight of expectation that he can usually bear but now sets him down on the stoop, struggling and squeezing his eyes shut against the prickling at the corners. What example is he now? What leader? What Champion if all he's ever able to do with even the best of plans is bring them to ruin and not even be able to stand tall in the aftermath? Not able to keep his word?
"Adalwolfe Hawke, you are no use to them right now."
His next breath comes out as a wracking sob and he covers his head with his hands, face down between his knees there on the front stoop of the Cat House as all the weight of failed expectation presses down at once to bury him.
Cw: panic attack
He wants to draw himself up. To use his bulk and his height to cow Chris into backing down, to seeing he's wrong and Hawke has to atone for this, for leading two of those he cares for most into a doomed quest, but he can't even do that, can't fight against the very clear lines his boyfriend has drawn. The disapproval. And the very idea that he could ever push Chris into backing off, that he should ever, sends a lance of nausea and shame through him.
"You are going back on your word."
He does pull away, then. Steps backwards onto the porch and all but stumbles at the front steps hitting his heels. He's trapped. He's useless and powerless and it's hard to think suddenly, hard to breath. Where Chris' hand was once at the neck of his shirt he brings his own up, as if he can force more air into his lungs by it being there. He gasps, wheezing and doubling over as he tries to pull his mana to him, tries to pull that familiar chill energy into himself like a security blanket and instead grasps at nothing.
There's nothing.
"I-I can't- I-" He's shaking, hands and shoulders quaking, not sure what he's trying to say but only that he doesn't have the breath to say it for the weight of responsibility on his chest, a crushing weight of expectation that he can usually bear but now sets him down on the stoop, struggling and squeezing his eyes shut against the prickling at the corners. What example is he now? What leader? What Champion if all he's ever able to do with even the best of plans is bring them to ruin and not even be able to stand tall in the aftermath? Not able to keep his word?
"Adalwolfe Hawke, you are no use to them right now."
His next breath comes out as a wracking sob and he covers his head with his hands, face down between his knees there on the front stoop of the Cat House as all the weight of failed expectation presses down at once to bury him.