[ gets up and leaves... bye girl, the train is calling again.
But no, wouldn't it be great if he could spend one moment of his life actually believing for a moment that things like love and being human were accessible to him, What If. He steadies his expression so that it doesn't waver when Vietnam says that she's happy that he's loved, because the irony of those words and his situation stings; like falling on an old wound, tearing at a half-closed gash.
But, still— a part of him feels for Vietnam, as misplaced as that emotion is. She's beyond pity or empathy, isn't she— she's far stronger than that, far stronger than to fish for sympathy from the truth. ]
...It's not something that you should be happy about.
[ A dismissive comment, which he makes sound like his usual tsun shyness— as if he's trying to wave aside the topic of conversation because it embarrasses him, not because it's a barb in his heart. ]
I'm not the best person to talk to about these things.
no subject
But no, wouldn't it be great if he could spend one moment of his life actually believing for a moment that things like love and being human were accessible to him, What If. He steadies his expression so that it doesn't waver when Vietnam says that she's happy that he's loved, because the irony of those words and his situation stings; like falling on an old wound, tearing at a half-closed gash.
But, still— a part of him feels for Vietnam, as misplaced as that emotion is. She's beyond pity or empathy, isn't she— she's far stronger than that, far stronger than to fish for sympathy from the truth. ]
...It's not something that you should be happy about.
[ A dismissive comment, which he makes sound like his usual tsun shyness— as if he's trying to wave aside the topic of conversation because it embarrasses him, not because it's a barb in his heart. ]
I'm not the best person to talk to about these things.