[Billy exhales loudly, expelling enough air for his shoulders to shake. There's a definite weight hanging over his head, his heart, and he knows Kaworu's on a mission to get to the bottom of it. He wants to sleep, needs to escape, but...
...no, something tells him not to send Kaworu away yet. And maybe he should get this out in the open.]
Fair warning: it's ugly.
[Billy reaches for the buttons on his pajama top. He'd only bothered buttoning three, exhausted as he was, so it's not long before the material slips off his shoulders.
There hadn't been a need for bandages on fully sealed wounds, the reasoning had gone, so every one of Billy's marks is exposed. There's a solid boot-shaped bruise on his abdomen, raised scar tissue dragging from his ribcage to his hip, and another jagged mark across his upper chest, along with a whole score of smaller ones. At least 30% of the skin is the raw pink of newly regenerated tissue.
His back isn't any better. There's an ugly bump near his shoulderblade that was clearly a bullet's doing more slashes, and a larger and redder line across his other shoulder---that's the reopened old wound, and it hurts like hell. Other, smaller indentations litter his back---some more older wounds, the diggings-in of glass, but they're not big enough to cause problems now.
All the while, Billy hangs his head, defeat and shame clear in his posture.]
no subject
...no, something tells him not to send Kaworu away yet. And maybe he should get this out in the open.]
Fair warning: it's ugly.
[Billy reaches for the buttons on his pajama top. He'd only bothered buttoning three, exhausted as he was, so it's not long before the material slips off his shoulders.
There hadn't been a need for bandages on fully sealed wounds, the reasoning had gone, so every one of Billy's marks is exposed. There's a solid boot-shaped bruise on his abdomen, raised scar tissue dragging from his ribcage to his hip, and another jagged mark across his upper chest, along with a whole score of smaller ones. At least 30% of the skin is the raw pink of newly regenerated tissue.
His back isn't any better. There's an ugly bump near his shoulderblade that was clearly a bullet's doing more slashes, and a larger and redder line across his other shoulder---that's the reopened old wound, and it hurts like hell. Other, smaller indentations litter his back---some more older wounds, the diggings-in of glass, but they're not big enough to cause problems now.
All the while, Billy hangs his head, defeat and shame clear in his posture.]