[Paul doesn't expect Palamedes' reaction to be thank you. He was expecting the chill of immediate rejection, and he wouldn't have been offended by it. Saddened to lose out on what could have been a friendship, yes, but it would have been understandable. Everything he knows about the subtle dancing art of social warfare dictates that a move like the one he just made would result in nothing less. Palamedes can almost certainly see his surprise, his relief, his humbling in the face of unwarranted grace.
He didn't do it to gain anything. He did it because he couldn't bear to keep balancing on the edge of manipulation, because he lost his nerve to strike at a moment of perfect opportunity. And yet: he feels as though he has been given a gift.
There's more ease in Paul as he sits up to match Palamedes, an unwinding of a tension he's been carrying since he got here and realized his transgression. Even his joints seem less stiff.]
You have nothing to apologize for. Believe me. You should see mine. [He rises from his chair and tugs his sleeve up, repeats his little process of scraping at his scabs. Once again, he'll open the door on Palamedes' cue.] Point the way. Let's get you out of here.
no subject
He didn't do it to gain anything. He did it because he couldn't bear to keep balancing on the edge of manipulation, because he lost his nerve to strike at a moment of perfect opportunity. And yet: he feels as though he has been given a gift.
There's more ease in Paul as he sits up to match Palamedes, an unwinding of a tension he's been carrying since he got here and realized his transgression. Even his joints seem less stiff.]
You have nothing to apologize for. Believe me. You should see mine. [He rises from his chair and tugs his sleeve up, repeats his little process of scraping at his scabs. Once again, he'll open the door on Palamedes' cue.] Point the way. Let's get you out of here.