[—and never again after. The words hit too close. Some wounds follow a man forever, refusing to fade no matter how many years or lives he puts between himself and their origin.
The bitter amusement of sharing more common ground with Fandaniel than expected doesn't even inspire a laugh. He can't blame wine for dulling his edge— he and Fandaniel both wear sympathy poorly, and what little passes between them is gone in the space of a breath. Better, perhaps, to pretend as if baring old wounds doesn't sting afresh.]
Of course. We'll keep it simple.
[As if. His habit of pressing where it hurts will not be denied.]
no subject
The bitter amusement of sharing more common ground with Fandaniel than expected doesn't even inspire a laugh. He can't blame wine for dulling his edge— he and Fandaniel both wear sympathy poorly, and what little passes between them is gone in the space of a breath. Better, perhaps, to pretend as if baring old wounds doesn't sting afresh.]
Of course. We'll keep it simple.
[As if. His habit of pressing where it hurts will not be denied.]
What do you wish for?