[ it doesn't look like it; she's pulling her hands away from him so she can cover her eyes, turning clumsily on her barstool so her back is to him. very quiet crying, but crying nonetheless, and her stomach burns with it. what an utter disappointment she's being—not to Eunoia and Selcouth Vaux, but to herself. ]
Sprezzatura, it will take more than your uncertainty in this one moment to change the color of my string. I am not so fickle when it comes to relationships that I truly care about.
[But, of course, she can have the time she needs.]
Then let someone help ground you so that you do not feel as though you are running in place and making no headway for it. I am always at your disposal, you know.
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I wish I knew why I became like this.
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...Like what?
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[Gently-] ...You needn't make any decisions today.
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[But, of course, she can have the time she needs.]
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[ she's the fickle one? ]
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What? Fickle? No. If your regard changed as often as the direction of the wind, then would this affect you so? I think not.
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