Once the door closes behind him, he leans back against it and slides to the floor. Suddenly he can breathe a little easier, though his head spins slightly. This is ridiculous. It's him. It's him. Lanky and knobbly and awkward. The mouse of the Durant family. He shouldn't be dealing with this. Sagyne should be dealing with this. Probably has dealt with this. For a second, Viatorus considers calling to ask for advice, but then Poenia would find out and... no.
He scrubs his head, hoping it will help him think, desperately wishing someone else would deal with this. Isidor would. But he might never see Amelia again. No... He has to handle this. What a terrible thought.
Closing his eyes, he breathes calmly, evenly. Waits for the pains in his chest and throat to settle. Then, slowly, he gets up and finds himself a little light headed. He puts a hand out, holding onto the wall to steady himself, but when his head clears, he realises what he's going to do.
With his hand on the doorhandle, he hesitates, feels the mounting fear threatening to pull him back into an anxious wreck. His hand pulls back, and he immediately winces at the cowardly move. The second time, he takes a deep breath but pushes the handle down quickly, moving into the room before he has a chance to back out.
"Before you say anything, I-I think we need to put this behind us. Isidor can never know. It wouldn't do any good, and- We both know that we can't have that life, we both know that. And one day you'll have a husband and I'll have a wife and this will all be forgotten, but we can't get there if we talk about this ever again. But..." For the first time since he entered the room, he pauses. "I... I think we need to make sure we've said all we feel we need to say. So... So we don't regret things. So we don't keep thinking about the things left unspoken." A pause and he shifts awkwardly on the spot, his nerves catching up with him. "What... What do you think?"
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He scrubs his head, hoping it will help him think, desperately wishing someone else would deal with this. Isidor would. But he might never see Amelia again. No... He has to handle this. What a terrible thought.
Closing his eyes, he breathes calmly, evenly. Waits for the pains in his chest and throat to settle. Then, slowly, he gets up and finds himself a little light headed. He puts a hand out, holding onto the wall to steady himself, but when his head clears, he realises what he's going to do.
With his hand on the doorhandle, he hesitates, feels the mounting fear threatening to pull him back into an anxious wreck. His hand pulls back, and he immediately winces at the cowardly move. The second time, he takes a deep breath but pushes the handle down quickly, moving into the room before he has a chance to back out.
"Before you say anything, I-I think we need to put this behind us. Isidor can never know. It wouldn't do any good, and- We both know that we can't have that life, we both know that. And one day you'll have a husband and I'll have a wife and this will all be forgotten, but we can't get there if we talk about this ever again. But..." For the first time since he entered the room, he pauses. "I... I think we need to make sure we've said all we feel we need to say. So... So we don't regret things. So we don't keep thinking about the things left unspoken." A pause and he shifts awkwardly on the spot, his nerves catching up with him. "What... What do you think?"