No! [ SQUEAKY and then he clears his throat. ] -- No, no, I think... I think you've made your point.
[ radiant above. this is all very embarrassing, and his emotions clearly reflect that as he pulls the book slowly down away from his face and actually sets it down, but underneath that thick layer of catholic embarrassment is something very, very touched. he almost doesn't know what to do with himself, with all of this kindness, and with slightly fluttering hands, he sets one fingertip on the paper and pulls it closer to himself.
embarrassing. ]
...you are too kind, Yves. Truly. I - thank you. You honor me.
[ it's just - it's hard, sometimes. it's hard to be a person when you've never been one, no matter how bad you want to be. none of this changes the outlook of his fate, but it is such a heartening, strange feeling, to know how it is to be loved, to be cherished as taair. not as your highness. not as a chess piece, dangling marionette on a puppet string, pretty songbird in a cage, but as taair. for his good and bad pieces.
he swallows, hard, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. ]
...I apologize for being a little fussy. [ eventually, but he says it with a smile, a soft echo of fondness. ] But... I see what you're trying to say.
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[ radiant above. this is all very embarrassing, and his emotions clearly reflect that as he pulls the book slowly down away from his face and actually sets it down, but underneath that thick layer of catholic embarrassment is something very, very touched. he almost doesn't know what to do with himself, with all of this kindness, and with slightly fluttering hands, he sets one fingertip on the paper and pulls it closer to himself.
embarrassing. ]
...you are too kind, Yves. Truly. I - thank you. You honor me.
[ it's just - it's hard, sometimes. it's hard to be a person when you've never been one, no matter how bad you want to be. none of this changes the outlook of his fate, but it is such a heartening, strange feeling, to know how it is to be loved, to be cherished as taair. not as your highness. not as a chess piece, dangling marionette on a puppet string, pretty songbird in a cage, but as taair. for his good and bad pieces.
he swallows, hard, tucking a lock of his hair behind his ear. ]
...I apologize for being a little fussy. [ eventually, but he says it with a smile, a soft echo of fondness. ] But... I see what you're trying to say.