dextera feels all the more certain as he watches the memory play out in front of them, brought about by the magic of the pool. he watches amos’ memory the same way he’s watched his own, a story told in reflection; the person telling it seems even more divorced than dextera has been, like there’s some unreachable distance between who amos is and who he’s looking at.
it’s not fair. amos knew a happiness unlike anything that’s waiting for dextera beyond the fog, and he regards it like it’s none of his business. with the same detached sense of being that he’s regarded everything else in dextera’s presence. that’s a baroque. something is wrong with amos, to have experienced this love and have still turned out the way he has, but for the first time dextera doesn’t know what to do with this.
he doesn’t—
he doesn’t hate amos. the man has done nothing, really, except express the kind of loyalty that most people would be happy to have. it’s just what he looks like, doing it. what he represents. ]
I’ve never had a meal with my brother. I don’t know anything about him.
[ there’s pain in his voice, strained. he wants what amos is showing him, like he could appreciate it so much better. ]
no subject
dextera feels all the more certain as he watches the memory play out in front of them, brought about by the magic of the pool. he watches amos’ memory the same way he’s watched his own, a story told in reflection; the person telling it seems even more divorced than dextera has been, like there’s some unreachable distance between who amos is and who he’s looking at.
it’s not fair. amos knew a happiness unlike anything that’s waiting for dextera beyond the fog, and he regards it like it’s none of his business. with the same detached sense of being that he’s regarded everything else in dextera’s presence. that’s a baroque. something is wrong with amos, to have experienced this love and have still turned out the way he has, but for the first time dextera doesn’t know what to do with this.
he doesn’t—
he doesn’t hate amos. the man has done nothing, really, except express the kind of loyalty that most people would be happy to have. it’s just what he looks like, doing it. what he represents. ]
I’ve never had a meal with my brother. I don’t know anything about him.
[ there’s pain in his voice, strained. he wants what amos is showing him, like he could appreciate it so much better. ]