[Isabeau's arms tighten a little around them and it squeezes a soft sigh out of Siffrin unintentionally. Please don't call them out on it, they may drop dead on the spot.]
Something like that.
[It did sort of feel that way when they first asked Isabeau what was up with the aborted shoulder touch thing. Getting told they didn't like being touched and only being able to think, I don't? Wondering if maybe they were somehow actually right about that, too. After all, he's forgotten plenty of other things about himself.
And either way, what was he supposed to do? Correct the misunderstanding again and again every loop? Could he have handled having this conversation again and again and again, repeatedly pouring his guts out, raw and vulnerable, only for it to be forgotten again within a day or two at most?
But that was the struggle with most things in the loops. Nothing mattered. No matter how warm and touching the interaction, it was soon wiped out and reduced to another chore to get through. He zoned out through so many precious moments, and in the end none of them mattered because the timeline that stuck around was the one where he set a torch to all his relationships and went through the house alone. Every snacktime, every bonding moment, every bit of banter, all of it was ultimately his alone, memories shared with no one.
It's a lonely thought. Siffrin presses closer to Isabeau, quietly hoping it'll encourage him to squeeze them tighter.]
But this is nice.
[Understatement of the fucking century, but no need to scare Isabeau off immediately by acting insanely needy.]
no subject
Something like that.
[It did sort of feel that way when they first asked Isabeau what was up with the aborted shoulder touch thing. Getting told they didn't like being touched and only being able to think, I don't? Wondering if maybe they were somehow actually right about that, too. After all, he's forgotten plenty of other things about himself.
And either way, what was he supposed to do? Correct the misunderstanding again and again every loop? Could he have handled having this conversation again and again and again, repeatedly pouring his guts out, raw and vulnerable, only for it to be forgotten again within a day or two at most?
But that was the struggle with most things in the loops. Nothing mattered. No matter how warm and touching the interaction, it was soon wiped out and reduced to another chore to get through. He zoned out through so many precious moments, and in the end none of them mattered because the timeline that stuck around was the one where he set a torch to all his relationships and went through the house alone. Every snacktime, every bonding moment, every bit of banter, all of it was ultimately his alone, memories shared with no one.
It's a lonely thought. Siffrin presses closer to Isabeau, quietly hoping it'll encourage him to squeeze them tighter.]
But this is nice.
[Understatement of the fucking century, but no need to scare Isabeau off immediately by acting insanely needy.]