backscar | open post

Ah, yes. The gentle sting of pity.

No. I respect you too much to do that. It's not even empathy, because it would be insulting if I thought I could even remotely understand what you've been through. It isn't pity. I thought I made myself clear.

No, I... I know what you mean. I was being cruel.

Yes. You were, but if that's what you need to do to cope, then fine. I can live with it. I won't do or say a thing to you, however, that I don't mean.

I will do my best to believe you, in future.

I'm not entitled to your trust, but I do feel it's worthwhile to earn. So I will do what I can to become deserving of that. Yet, should that never happen, I would respect it.

Hm. I appreciate your dedication.

I'm sure you do. But enough on that. Don't forget you owe me your company for a picnic. If you make other plans to get out of it, I'm going to get very upset with you.

Yes, yes, my company is yours. I won't try to wriggle my way out, you've my word. I'm looking forward to it.

Likewise. I'll come to collect you on the morrow.

I anticipate it with bated breath. Well, bated something.

Don't you still breathe? I think bated breath still applies to you.

[No, no, no. If she goes down this pathway, he'll distract her.]

Hold onto it for later. If I ask you everything now, I'll be a poor conversationalist later on.