[ The truth. He struggles with it, knowing what that is--the protest that had been in him before wanting to push itself up Robby's throat, but it doesn't make it that far. He'd fiddle with his hands if he wasn't holding the cup, and instead presses the pads of his fingers against them. ]
... Okay. [ But Robby does answer, despite the more hesitation; the lowering of his gaze speaking of the guilt that comes with it. The guilt that has to be there, if she's right about this too.
(And she will be--it'll worm itself inside him. What did he ever know about helping someone like Mob? He turned their training into games. He was stupid.) ]
I will, [ he adds on, as reinforcement. Looking at Miss Makima, rolling his lips together, not smiling, though trying to appear agreeable. ]
no subject
... Okay. [ But Robby does answer, despite the more hesitation; the lowering of his gaze speaking of the guilt that comes with it. The guilt that has to be there, if she's right about this too.
(And she will be--it'll worm itself inside him. What did he ever know about helping someone like Mob? He turned their training into games. He was stupid.) ]
I will, [ he adds on, as reinforcement. Looking at Miss Makima, rolling his lips together, not smiling, though trying to appear agreeable. ]