[There are a few times where he opens his mouth to interject, but manages to stop himself each time, swallowing the urge to defend himself and allowing Sparkling to finish.
Still, he lowers his head and raises tense shoulders, shrinking into himself like a scolded child, staring down at his blackened hands that tremble with anticipation. He's starting to see through them, down to the fabric of his slacks, and tries to remember to focus and keep himself together. He doesn't want to disappear in front of Sparkling-- as if he needs to make the situation any more embarrassing than it already is.
This is awful. He should have known better than to mention this part of his life. Fearless told him it was a bad idea, stupid of him to just drop that information on someone as if they'd just shrug it off as "no big deal." Murder is a big deal. Killing people for any reason is certainly a big deal to civilians. It's not a normal job to have in any capacity, and he's not sure why he thought it would be a comfort for anyone to hear, much less a kind young man from a cookie kingdom.
Sparkling not condoning his behavior isn't the same thing as judging him for it, he knows, but that doesn't seem to stop him from feeling as if he's done something terribly wrong. In fact, it's probably the first time he's actually felt bad about his job in a while.]
Are you asking me to explain myself? I can. If it will help.
[His voice is small, quiet, almost defeated. The last time he tried to explain something to someone, he'd made an even bigger fool of himself. The last time he tried to help, he'd ruined a girl's evening. That distinct but familiar feeling of failure is already welling up inside of him, devastated that he'd already perhaps ruined a chance at having another friend, earning someone else's trust.]
I-- I don't want you to think poorly of me, Sparkling. But, more than that... I don't want to lie to you, either.
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Date: 2022-03-13 11:04 pm (UTC)Still, he lowers his head and raises tense shoulders, shrinking into himself like a scolded child, staring down at his blackened hands that tremble with anticipation. He's starting to see through them, down to the fabric of his slacks, and tries to remember to focus and keep himself together. He doesn't want to disappear in front of Sparkling-- as if he needs to make the situation any more embarrassing than it already is.
This is awful. He should have known better than to mention this part of his life. Fearless told him it was a bad idea, stupid of him to just drop that information on someone as if they'd just shrug it off as "no big deal." Murder is a big deal. Killing people for any reason is certainly a big deal to civilians. It's not a normal job to have in any capacity, and he's not sure why he thought it would be a comfort for anyone to hear, much less a kind young man from a cookie kingdom.
Sparkling not condoning his behavior isn't the same thing as judging him for it, he knows, but that doesn't seem to stop him from feeling as if he's done something terribly wrong. In fact, it's probably the first time he's actually felt bad about his job in a while.]
Are you asking me to explain myself? I can. If it will help.
[His voice is small, quiet, almost defeated. The last time he tried to explain something to someone, he'd made an even bigger fool of himself. The last time he tried to help, he'd ruined a girl's evening. That distinct but familiar feeling of failure is already welling up inside of him, devastated that he'd already perhaps ruined a chance at having another friend, earning someone else's trust.]
I-- I don't want you to think poorly of me, Sparkling. But, more than that... I don't want to lie to you, either.