there's light at the edge of the darkness
Finally, it seemed they were making progress, and Phoebe was worrying about herself instead of him. Well, mostly: she seemed to think that he felt better for being cruel, but he didn’t. No, she had the order completely wrong. The cruelty flowed from him because he felt better, not the other way around. The anger sustained him, filled him, completed him in a way that his desperate search for the dregs of affection from anyone who showed him a modicum of warmth never had.
He felt freed from the shackles of his past, of those who sought to mold him into something he wasn’t, someone he couldn’t be. Kindness had always been so much harder for him, and now he knew why. It was because he’d never had the capability to be gentle, and had always been able to hurt people. So, he embraced that, and stayed silent as she spoke, his eyes unreadable.
When she finished, he remained quiet for a few more moments. Then, he applauded slowly, mockingly. ”Now we’re getting somewhere.” He crossed his arms and grinned at her. This time, it had a wild edge to it. ”Trying isn’t always enough. And regardless of what you might think or say, which, let me tell you, your pretty little speech about yourself and your self-image hardly match your words or your actions towards others, you come across as if you believe you're totally pure of heart and no one else can live up to your impossibly high standards. But that's not really important." It was something she should be aware of, probably. However, he didn't think she'd be willing to admit that about herself, nor did he have any interest in helping her correct her behavior.
"No what's important is this: if you know no one you’re unlovable, then why keep searching for love?” Those two were entirely contradictory, and they’d tear her apart unless she found some way to resolve them. Not that the Launceleyn particularly cared. Unlike her, he was done trying to be a better person, or kind, or anything more than the ice that had taken over his heart and soul. Cold. Unfeeling. Hard.
His family would be so proud. Well, better late than never he supposed.
He felt freed from the shackles of his past, of those who sought to mold him into something he wasn’t, someone he couldn’t be. Kindness had always been so much harder for him, and now he knew why. It was because he’d never had the capability to be gentle, and had always been able to hurt people. So, he embraced that, and stayed silent as she spoke, his eyes unreadable.
When she finished, he remained quiet for a few more moments. Then, he applauded slowly, mockingly. ”Now we’re getting somewhere.” He crossed his arms and grinned at her. This time, it had a wild edge to it. ”Trying isn’t always enough. And regardless of what you might think or say, which, let me tell you, your pretty little speech about yourself and your self-image hardly match your words or your actions towards others, you come across as if you believe you're totally pure of heart and no one else can live up to your impossibly high standards. But that's not really important." It was something she should be aware of, probably. However, he didn't think she'd be willing to admit that about herself, nor did he have any interest in helping her correct her behavior.
"No what's important is this: if you know no one you’re unlovable, then why keep searching for love?” Those two were entirely contradictory, and they’d tear her apart unless she found some way to resolve them. Not that the Launceleyn particularly cared. Unlike her, he was done trying to be a better person, or kind, or anything more than the ice that had taken over his heart and soul. Cold. Unfeeling. Hard.
His family would be so proud. Well, better late than never he supposed.
loren
