[He stops there, starts again with a deep, shaky breath, wanting to look away. It feels like Logan is looking right at him despite how opaque the lenses are. Maybe he really can see his eyes behind the sapphires.]
...You haven't lied to me, so I'm more inclined to believe you.
[And here he is, having spouted off softer lies just to try to be tougher than he is. What the fuck...]
It can't be all on you. It would be cruel to you to think and act otherwise.
[He ducks his head slightly to break eye contact. Fuck. People generally don't even try to look him in the eyes even with the mask. This much is, well. Good. It feels more like a person every time and it's hard to get a grip.
[Because each minute spent, every gentle word spoken and act given, makes him wonder what reason it was that he's suffered so much. Makes him question if it really, really was justly earned. But outside of his high standing at work, to be met with contempt was all too common.
[This person who has nothing to gain or to lose by treating him poorly, is treating him kindly.
[Mouth pressing into a wobbling line, he pulls his mask off to minimize his discomfort, and pulls the hood of his coat far over his eyes to hide how the tears just keep falling. There's no hiding the way they drip down, nor the way his breath shudders as he tries to keep as much of his composure as possible.
[But he doesn't try to stop himself beyond that, beyond keeping a fragment of control tightly in his grasp, lest he lose all sense of their surroundings just to weep.]
no subject
[He stops there, starts again with a deep, shaky breath, wanting to look away. It feels like Logan is looking right at him despite how opaque the lenses are. Maybe he really can see his eyes behind the sapphires.]
...You haven't lied to me, so I'm more inclined to believe you.
[And here he is, having spouted off softer lies just to try to be tougher than he is. What the fuck...]
It can't be all on you. It would be cruel to you to think and act otherwise.
[He ducks his head slightly to break eye contact. Fuck. People generally don't even try to look him in the eyes even with the mask. This much is, well. Good. It feels more like a person every time and it's hard to get a grip.
[Because each minute spent, every gentle word spoken and act given, makes him wonder what reason it was that he's suffered so much. Makes him question if it really, really was justly earned. But outside of his high standing at work, to be met with contempt was all too common.
[This person who has nothing to gain or to lose by treating him poorly, is treating him kindly.
[Mouth pressing into a wobbling line, he pulls his mask off to minimize his discomfort, and pulls the hood of his coat far over his eyes to hide how the tears just keep falling. There's no hiding the way they drip down, nor the way his breath shudders as he tries to keep as much of his composure as possible.
[But he doesn't try to stop himself beyond that, beyond keeping a fragment of control tightly in his grasp, lest he lose all sense of their surroundings just to weep.]