and I've only got my brittle bones to break the fall
It's easy to get stuck on spots that aren't actually there, carefully wiping the same area over and over simply because his mind is elsewhere. He's just so—so disappointed with himself. (But what could he alone have done, even if he'd understood?)"Perhaps," he agrees, running the rag over the soot-stained sill and watching it blacken. "I'm sure she had her reasons, and I don't mind. She's always been this way." More or less. His voice is quiet and he doesn't look up from his absent-minded work, carefully folding the rag after each swipe so that the next is with a clean patch.
He nods his thanks at her offer, not realizing she might not see him do it. "That makes my part in it sound a lot grander than it was," he says with the traces of a laugh around the words, though he can't quite bring himself to mirth. "She did all the hard work and I barely knew what was going on." He's not sure what makes him ask the next question, just that the words are suddenly on his tongue. "Why did you ascend?"
Aamu
