Zexion's eyes slip open again, and his brow arches high, his gloved fingers drumming a steady patter on the sterile, plastic cover of the binder. He watches Ienzo silently for a few moments more, then clears his throat and stretches his arms out behind him to find the back edge of the shelving, leaning some of his weight back on them and crossing his boots behind the ankle.
"Perhaps you ought to rephrase that question in a less presumptuous light." He suggests, his voice low and deceptively mild, the slightest bit reproachful.
"What you ought to be asking yourself," the schemer amends, canting his head to one side so that he can peer at Ienzo with both eyes. "Is why are you extracting me from the recesses of your consciousness and closing your heart off, hiding it behind the shutters, to help you cope?"
"Do you have so little faith left in your own strength?" Zexion questions so keenly, honing in so swiftly that the criticism cuts right to the bone without wasting time. He's always been very self-motivated to be exacting, efficient. Why should speaking to his Other be any different?
"Please don't waste time on denying it- because I do understand your concerns better than anyone. You do not wish to make gross outbursts, like Even. You cannot stand surly and gruffly unmoved as Dilan pretends to be. And you doubt you can bear an excess of guilt and shoulder responsibilities well as Aeleus can, without crumbling and losing your mind and heart all over again."
"And thus you've turned me loose, now and then. You've practically begged me back into being, the way a desperate child hopes at falling stars. You are the one who should know better, Ienzo."
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Date: 2015-09-01 07:13 pm (UTC)"Perhaps you ought to rephrase that question in a less presumptuous light." He suggests, his voice low and deceptively mild, the slightest bit reproachful.
"What you ought to be asking yourself," the schemer amends, canting his head to one side so that he can peer at Ienzo with both eyes. "Is why are you extracting me from the recesses of your consciousness and closing your heart off, hiding it behind the shutters, to help you cope?"
"Do you have so little faith left in your own strength?" Zexion questions so keenly, honing in so swiftly that the criticism cuts right to the bone without wasting time. He's always been very self-motivated to be exacting, efficient. Why should speaking to his Other be any different?
"Please don't waste time on denying it- because I do understand your concerns better than anyone. You do not wish to make gross outbursts, like Even. You cannot stand surly and gruffly unmoved as Dilan pretends to be. And you doubt you can bear an excess of guilt and shoulder responsibilities well as Aeleus can, without crumbling and losing your mind and heart all over again."
"And thus you've turned me loose, now and then. You've practically begged me back into being, the way a desperate child hopes at falling stars. You are the one who should know better, Ienzo."