[A pause, filled only with the subtle clack that makes it clear he's drumming his nails against his table.]
... You have no real excuse to come see me, then. Hm? That was all that I could come up with, personally - but I wouldn't want to tear you away from the others, either.
"Obviously"? ... Frankly, I've been expecting a mob to tear down my door any moment - I have even seen visions of such, unsure if they were real or not.
Freaky, as one might say.
[At least there's a touch of humor in his voice, though!]
... Would it be selfish of me? To admit that I'd like you to visit? I've even cleaned my apartment, despite not staying in here very often - everything is clear of dust, the sofa is straightened, my bed has been made... all of it.
I, ah... haven't had much else to focus on. These last couple of days.
[He is, of course, very quick to answer the door - already, the smell of coffee is wafting around him out through the doorway, clearly set up just for her. Just as before.
And he's smiling brightly, as bright as he can manage, when he sees her -
Only for that smile to falter at the sight of her EGO suit.
...
Yeah, of course she'd be wearing that. Right? She needs it. To feel safe. Around him.
His smile is still there, but it's a bit strained as he moves to the side to invite her in.]
Here - please, come in... I've already started coffee for you. And, ah - I've... purchased "proper" milk, too. If you'd like.
[... All he had otherwise were dairy-free alternatives, so.]
... Not as well as I could, to be frank. Because of everything that happened, yes -
But I also have not eaten that much meat in my entire life... nor did I purge all of it. I'm still dealing with the aftermath of that disgusting mistake.
[Just... gonna explain that as plainly as he can, apparently.
And now he's making his way over to the sofa, himself - holding not just his own cup, but also a cup of coffee for her on a nice little tray... Because everything is unmixed. Milk, cream, and sugar are all in nice little cups on the tray alongside hers, just in case she doesn't trust him with it.]
... I'll likely be ill for a day or two more, but I'll survive.
Unfortunately not. My body isn't built like yours - most everything is made for those with physical systems. I'd have to test everything to make sure it does not react to my magic harmfully...
But as I said, I'll survive. Really, we're both just lucky I'm merely vegan for my health - Were I the kind to do it for "welfare", I'd be having a much bigger breakdown than I am.
I'm not sure, to be honest with you. I - I do not handle these... well. But I also don't... have them as others do.
[He looks down at his tea, then, thinking about it... then looks at his hands, holding onto his tea.
For some reason, his vision darts across his hands, as if he's looking at lots of little... somethings on them - And he opts to place his tea on the table, slowly and gently.]
... Would you... hold my hands, perhaps? Just - Just that.... please.
[Still looking at his hands - it's clear he's seeing... things. Whatever they are.]
[Her hands are taken in return with quite a bit more hesitation - but from the jerky way he goes about it, it seems almost more like he's trying not to get anything on her.
And once they're holding hands properly, he lets out a little sigh. Not one of relief - But a sigh nonetheless.]
... Thank you. It, ah - Hasn't... changed anything. But it's much easier to tell it isn't real, seeing you so unaffected...
That's cool! And it's so pretty too! I like all kinds of animal forms, but the ones I like the most are ones that remind me of the different places I've lived in.
[She shifts into her gonolek form and ruffles her wings.]
Like this bird lives in Nigeria, where I got my udu from! And my fish form, the one that looks like you? They had it in the lakes on Tiotio Island!
Oh, no - just this is fine. A photo won't make it go away, but as I said - you seem unaffected by it... that's good enough. My visions just get so messy when something's wrong; that's become one of my only means of gauging such a thing.
In fact, it's so bad, my scar's reopened.
[Which it most certainly has not. But the tone makes it clear he knows he's just seeing things - his scar's as healed as it's ever been.]
... I cannot believe that, after everything, you are okay with sitting on my sofa in my living room. Doesn't it worry you? That I could do that again?
I am no longer mad. You've nothing to worry about - at least from that perspective. Rather bold to assume a madman needs a reason to do anything, though.
Or have you somehow convinced yourself I'm well after everything I've done to you?
[... Despite his words, he's squeezing her hands like he's afraid she'll let go.]
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