[He has, perhaps, never typed a sentence so fast, nor made himself hit send so quickly. So fast there's no time to think through the ramifications. So immediate that there's no taking it back.
It's only afterwards that there's space to read those lines of Tseng's text over and over again and dwell on what it makes him feel. The compliment, the unbidden praise. The reassurance. The lack of mockery. The refusal to categorize any part of him a failure.
It's not hard to see the clear bright line from A to B, when the question asks who it is that makes him feel safe, no matter the circumstances.]
But I won't ask you to. I don't want you to do it just because I asked.
[His fingers feel numb. His nerves are buzzing. Somehow, he plucks out the last of the keys anyway.]
When you planned everything on my birthday. And I didn't have to ask or decide. That's halfway to...this...already. Isn't it?
no subject
[He has, perhaps, never typed a sentence so fast, nor made himself hit send so quickly. So fast there's no time to think through the ramifications. So immediate that there's no taking it back.
It's only afterwards that there's space to read those lines of Tseng's text over and over again and dwell on what it makes him feel. The compliment, the unbidden praise. The reassurance. The lack of mockery. The refusal to categorize any part of him a failure.
It's not hard to see the clear bright line from A to B, when the question asks who it is that makes him feel safe, no matter the circumstances.]
But I won't ask you to. I don't want you to do it just because I asked.
[His fingers feel numb. His nerves are buzzing. Somehow, he plucks out the last of the keys anyway.]
When you planned everything on my birthday. And I didn't have to ask or decide. That's halfway to...this...already. Isn't it?