He can't stop his head from spinning. He doesn't want this. He doesn't want to deal with this. He's sorry. He's so sorry. It hurts. He wishes- He feels- No. He can't feel anything. He doesn't have a choice. He's not allowed. He doesn't want this. And round and round it goes.
As much as she says he doesn't have to say anything, he feels like he must, like he should. But what? She is right about two things: Neither of their feelings matter, and he doesn't have a choice. What more is there to be said?
It's not that simple, though. He'd thought- hoped that they'd dealt with it in their last discussion. Yet instead of resolving it, they had ended up here.
"What do we do now?" He finds himself wondering aloud. But the first thoughts that come to him are unhappy ones. What Isidor might say. That they should stay away from each other. What his uncle would say. That he should forget Amelia and ignore her.
"I can't do this," he announces a split second later. "I c-can't do this." And he springs from his seat to head back into the room, seeking some kind of reprieve from all of this.
no subject
As much as she says he doesn't have to say anything, he feels like he must, like he should. But what? She is right about two things: Neither of their feelings matter, and he doesn't have a choice. What more is there to be said?
It's not that simple, though. He'd thought- hoped that they'd dealt with it in their last discussion. Yet instead of resolving it, they had ended up here.
"What do we do now?" He finds himself wondering aloud. But the first thoughts that come to him are unhappy ones. What Isidor might say. That they should stay away from each other. What his uncle would say. That he should forget Amelia and ignore her.
"I can't do this," he announces a split second later. "I c-can't do this." And he springs from his seat to head back into the room, seeking some kind of reprieve from all of this.