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¤Ā Ā Ā funnily enough, the guilt struck him with absolute swiftness the moment the other man seemed to agree, searching himself for every minute detail of what he could've possibly perceived, and how he seemed to grow embarrassed as if hollis could actually see right through him, when it was simply shit talk for shit talk's sake. and maybe he could apologize for accidentally bestowing the other an impromptu existential crisis, could call him pretty which would be too true, but hollis ruled not toāø» thought it would be more important to maintain his unapologetic enigmatic allure, the kind that belonged to a #sewerrat with elbow bandaids and a silver chain.
so he pulled on another thread to unravel, because he might not look like shit but he was obviously troubled by whatever he had walked away from. there was an immediate resonance, how he'd done the same so many times, and sometimes never even looked back. better to just abandon things than come to a point where he felt absolutely incompetent. he'd rather feel anything else than feel like a #loser who couldn't do anything right, who didn't have a complete control over his destiny.
" yeah? what were you working on? " hollis asked before he took a sip of his radioactively blue slushie, though his gaze was trained on the other, albeit his neck starting to get sore for having to look up. and once the brain freeze hit, hollis cocked his head and added, " let me guess ⦠" and he paused for a moment to think, #lowkeymasochistic to contemplate about someone's artistic avenue while going through an ice cream headache, but it was half the fun if you asked him.
it took another thirty seconds or so to finally come up with something, a half-playful half-appraising smile on his lips. " you feel like someone who's a little bit of hopeless romantic, but mostly hopeless. " a laugh escaped him then, wondering if his read was going to be right. probably not, but he didn't mind being wrong either. it only meant being corrected with the truth, a foolproof way to learn more about someone. " so i'm guessing you were working on some romantic poetry. but you couldn't get the prose right, because it feels impossible to make it both extremely flowery and natural at the same time. "
and hollis didn't even bother to answer the question directed at him, so much more pressing matters at the moment than his exasperation with the glee club, feeling the need to crawl inside the midnight stranger's mind. to know him better. to feel less alone while the rest of the world was asleep. " did i get it, right? "