Post First Ordeal: Dec. 28, xxx4

He fired four shots. Freeing me of my bonds. As I pulled myself up shakily into a sitting ball, he collapsed to his knees before me. His face bloody from the nose and ear. Dust and dirt and tears streaked his cheeks. He tried wiping himself with a cloth, and was now partially dressed. I reached my hand up to touch his face... to confirm that he was really there and that it was the Max I knew. I could not form words. Like I had forgotten how to speak. As my hand came up, I saw the blood flow from my wrist... and just stared at it. I did not feel pain. I felt a bit light headed... He took hold of my hands and carefully peeled the blood-slicked ropes from my wrists and began bandaging them. Apologies tumbled from his lips in the barest of whispers.... apologies for having had to push me like he did. I wanted to hold him so close to reassure him that I understood. I reached along our bond... so frayed.... and called a calm energy to flow along it.

*stunned shock* This reverberated back! He... could not feel my emotions. Not unless I sent them along our bond. He was empathically blind. He was on the virge of panic. Oh gods... did I do that? Did I actually dump my experiences on him along our bond? Did I actually send the burning ball of fire to burn out his senses? Oh gods... he must have felt what I felt anyways. He is an empath... was... He was frightened. Unsure ... blind... I touched his face and tried to sooth his heart.

He loves me...
And I... I ... love him too.

The ordeal... the challenge... is over.
But did I succeed? or fail?

Max and I need time to talk... to heal... to share something better.