[He doesn't want to be cruel to her. This is still his legacy, in so many ways, a man who sometimes cares (and sometimes doesn't) about cruelty, and often manages it in some manner of speaking.
If she cried, he would not know how to manage it. He's grateful, cravenly, that she does not. He can't even reach out to touch her arm gently, an indication of another human present and capable of caring; just stares, with those wide eyes that take up so much of his awkward face, absorbing like a silent and stupid sponge.]
I got fired, but... you'd be good at it, you know. My old job. You actually sound like the ideal candidate.
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If she cried, he would not know how to manage it. He's grateful, cravenly, that she does not. He can't even reach out to touch her arm gently, an indication of another human present and capable of caring; just stares, with those wide eyes that take up so much of his awkward face, absorbing like a silent and stupid sponge.]
I got fired, but... you'd be good at it, you know. My old job. You actually sound like the ideal candidate.