[Some of this, he knows or guessed already, shared or implied over magical chocolates. They have to stop meeting this way, some cogent part of him thinks wryly, with so much at stake and so much needing to be revealed to be believed, but here they are once more.
Something seems to connect when she relates her experiences in the ballet. The loneliness and isolation of intense precociousness is something they share, after all, and the tether seems to retreat significantly when he looks up and nods, comprehending.
Is he listening now? Is that what she needs, just as much as it's helping him? Does some part of him need to be heard, even if he's devoted his life to making sure every true thing about him is buried and hidden and guarded with locks and cyanide tablets?]
You need better friends. And... you do understand. I'm sorry I doubted.
no subject
Something seems to connect when she relates her experiences in the ballet. The loneliness and isolation of intense precociousness is something they share, after all, and the tether seems to retreat significantly when he looks up and nods, comprehending.
Is he listening now? Is that what she needs, just as much as it's helping him? Does some part of him need to be heard, even if he's devoted his life to making sure every true thing about him is buried and hidden and guarded with locks and cyanide tablets?]
You need better friends. And... you do understand. I'm sorry I doubted.