Is that all? Hmmm... maybe she's not as interesting as I thought.
[He expected the answer to be both more straightforward and complicated. Most of such topics with Richard usually were, filled with the kind of self-loathing and demonic prattling about that cursed body as one would expect from one who could be as theatrical as he could. Was it so simple with Joan? No, he expected there was more to it, or perhaps her articulation was more of the affront to Richard than the meaning of her continued existence.
Either way, he could see that their little round table argument had waned from interest, and he was not invested enough to press the matter further. No, he crossed on leg over the other and looked around the church with its big tree, the candles, the ambiance of what was probably supposed to be peace, and the actual quiet of being seemingly isolated from the rest of Aldrip.
He had only allowed himself to leave Jinx knowing that she would be taken care of and wouldn't wake up alone. She had not only returned having seen and done things he would never know the extent of, but she returned bearing knowledge that upended much of his own life as well. Her denial of his ambition on her behalf, realizing his brother was alive somehow, watching her with others of their world. It was... a lot to consider.
Yet, he had come here because he had also needed the escape. If he were to leave the house for social time, it would only to be find Richard. The domestic intertwining of their lives had come to an abrupt halt, torn asunder with Jinx's return to the house. He had immediately stopped using the bed, seeing no point without having someone to sleep next to. Perhaps he would even admit someday that he was sleeping far less and fitfully since Richard had left.
His mismatched eyes regarded the younger man, watching Richard approach and stop in front of him. Without thought, he dropped his crossed leg down to the floor and slowly sat forward so the angle to look up at Richard was shaper.]
What else does one do with a book? I intend to read it. You base a lot of your own suffering on the word written within, so I expected I'll be enlightened reading it.
no subject
[He expected the answer to be both more straightforward and complicated. Most of such topics with Richard usually were, filled with the kind of self-loathing and demonic prattling about that cursed body as one would expect from one who could be as theatrical as he could. Was it so simple with Joan? No, he expected there was more to it, or perhaps her articulation was more of the affront to Richard than the meaning of her continued existence.
Either way, he could see that their little round table argument had waned from interest, and he was not invested enough to press the matter further. No, he crossed on leg over the other and looked around the church with its big tree, the candles, the ambiance of what was probably supposed to be peace, and the actual quiet of being seemingly isolated from the rest of Aldrip.
He had only allowed himself to leave Jinx knowing that she would be taken care of and wouldn't wake up alone. She had not only returned having seen and done things he would never know the extent of, but she returned bearing knowledge that upended much of his own life as well. Her denial of his ambition on her behalf, realizing his brother was alive somehow, watching her with others of their world. It was... a lot to consider.
Yet, he had come here because he had also needed the escape. If he were to leave the house for social time, it would only to be find Richard. The domestic intertwining of their lives had come to an abrupt halt, torn asunder with Jinx's return to the house. He had immediately stopped using the bed, seeing no point without having someone to sleep next to. Perhaps he would even admit someday that he was sleeping far less and fitfully since Richard had left.
His mismatched eyes regarded the younger man, watching Richard approach and stop in front of him. Without thought, he dropped his crossed leg down to the floor and slowly sat forward so the angle to look up at Richard was shaper.]
What else does one do with a book? I intend to read it. You base a lot of your own suffering on the word written within, so I expected I'll be enlightened reading it.