[ Ben blinks, surprised that she doesn't let him get away with it. Not because she seems morbidly interested, but because she is actually concerned. He's so used to being the one who doesn't let other people deflect, who is giving the pep talks.
He drops his gaze immediately when she says he's been through a lot, like the sleeves of his hoodie are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world and he has to stare at them, rub them between thumb and forefinger; the fray in the cuff makes it clear this is a longstanding nervous habit.
She shouldn't be saying all this. Should be scolding him for being afraid of good things. It makes him ridiculous, and he knows it, and he dislikes himself so acutely at that moment for it. What kind of person feels relieved when they hear it's not going to be all good, all the time?
He waits until she is done speaking, silent, head slightly bowed. His eyes stray over to that last card. Destiny. He finds his words again: ]
I just. Don't get why I get a second chance. Not. Other people, who deserve it more.
[ Boy howdy there's a lot to unpack there. Ben is thinking specifically of Dave. Dave, who he doesn't even fucking know, really, but who he'd heard so much about from Klaus. Who might have been a soldier, but had never been a killer the way Ben had been since he was just a kid. If Dave had showed up here, mysteriously alive again, how much better would Klaus be doing?
He reaches out and takes that last card, plucking it up delicately and looking at it, as if there will be more answers inside. So much for this reading being a fun distraction to take his mind off his gloom.... ]
You're right. I know that. I owe it to... whatever brought me here to try.
[ He exhales, finally looking back up, an apologetic half-smile quirking his mouth. ]
Sorry. I - we barely know each other and I'm unloading all this gloom on you, and the truth is... I can't even remember your name from the last time we met.
no subject
He drops his gaze immediately when she says he's been through a lot, like the sleeves of his hoodie are suddenly the most interesting thing in the world and he has to stare at them, rub them between thumb and forefinger; the fray in the cuff makes it clear this is a longstanding nervous habit.
She shouldn't be saying all this. Should be scolding him for being afraid of good things. It makes him ridiculous, and he knows it, and he dislikes himself so acutely at that moment for it. What kind of person feels relieved when they hear it's not going to be all good, all the time?
He waits until she is done speaking, silent, head slightly bowed. His eyes stray over to that last card. Destiny. He finds his words again: ]
I just. Don't get why I get a second chance. Not. Other people, who deserve it more.
[ Boy howdy there's a lot to unpack there. Ben is thinking specifically of Dave. Dave, who he doesn't even fucking know, really, but who he'd heard so much about from Klaus. Who might have been a soldier, but had never been a killer the way Ben had been since he was just a kid. If Dave had showed up here, mysteriously alive again, how much better would Klaus be doing?
He reaches out and takes that last card, plucking it up delicately and looking at it, as if there will be more answers inside. So much for this reading being a fun distraction to take his mind off his gloom.... ]
You're right. I know that. I owe it to... whatever brought me here to try.
[ He exhales, finally looking back up, an apologetic half-smile quirking his mouth. ]
Sorry. I - we barely know each other and I'm unloading all this gloom on you, and the truth is... I can't even remember your name from the last time we met.