[ He glances down when he feels their knees touch, an implicit sensation of trust. Feels. He's not sure. He's probably going to fuck this up; he really needs not to.
Doesn't move away. 'Ponine it is, then. It's not a name he's ever heard before, but not like that makes a difference.
Furrows his brows at her analysis of his name, though. At the sign of The Lovers that he'd been branded with upon arrival, splayed out for all to see on the back of this shitty tunic. It all feels like some sick joke. ]
Maybe. Think your analysis might be off, though. [ He doesn't want to take anything away from her now, but it's— Love doesn't exist, is the thing. ] That kind of thing doesn't really apply with me.
no subject
Doesn't move away. 'Ponine it is, then. It's not a name he's ever heard before, but not like that makes a difference.
Furrows his brows at her analysis of his name, though. At the sign of The Lovers that he'd been branded with upon arrival, splayed out for all to see on the back of this shitty tunic. It all feels like some sick joke. ]
Maybe. Think your analysis might be off, though. [ He doesn't want to take anything away from her now, but it's— Love doesn't exist, is the thing. ] That kind of thing doesn't really apply with me.