the things we hold are always the first to go
Ronin allowed himself a small smile of acknowledgement that yes, Ashe was probably and absolutely right about that. He and Remi were just... they were them, and that seemed to work well enough for both of them. (And for Aoife, more importantly). Strolling across the training grounds to catch the dummy head ball as it hurtled back to him, Ashe's question both did and didn't take him by surprise. With a soft frown, he picked up the head and moved to plonk it back on the body of the dummy.
"All the time," he said slowly. "It's better than it used to be, but I still feel sometimes like... an imposter, I guess? Like I'm this man, stepping into another man's shoes and pretending to be him." He rubbed at the back of his head, offering her his hand. "Want to carry on talking inside?" Over a drink? went unsaid.
"All the time," he said slowly. "It's better than it used to be, but I still feel sometimes like... an imposter, I guess? Like I'm this man, stepping into another man's shoes and pretending to be him." He rubbed at the back of his head, offering her his hand. "Want to carry on talking inside?" Over a drink? went unsaid.
