fenagain:
They looked up at each other at the same time, making eye contact. It was uncomfortable but his expression caught her attention so she didn’t look away. He almost looked… Sorry. Which was incredibly unlikely given everything she knew about him. He said he didn’t care, and likely didn’t. Why would he? He was just cold and bitter. …Even if he had helped her purely out of a kindness he would never admit to. But that didn’t mean he had a heart. Or, at least she didn’t think it did.
Looking away again, she almost missed his follow up statement. It was another contradiction, of course. It was something personal that made him just slightly more vulnerable. He couldn’t even keep up the tone of indifference, his voice sad and poorly masked. “Yeah? About what?”
Whether he could get into this conversation he didn’t know, but he did know he wanted to. Why else had he sat down to listen to her? It had been an odd thing to do, but he’d been drawn into the idea that he could share something meaningful with someone, who might understand. He wished it wouldn’t have consequences, so he could speak freely and without the worry of what she could do with the information or what it might do to him to have shared something so personal.
“The same as you, although-- although I don’t imagine it is the same. But... I dream about my parents too.”
