Things are not perfect, no. How could they be, when Asriel was stuck, stranded amidst slavers with no one there to SAVE him?
That was always the easy thing about him. He was always - always had to be, perhaps - eternally sincere, open as a book with his overly wide and expressive eyes. I'm not mad, he could say, and it would be plain as the nose on his face that he was, his eyes scrunched up and his paws screwed up into defiant fists or perhaps clenched around his ears.
Things are not perfect. They are not great. They are not even acceptable.
He says such things without a hint of cold sarcasm. Another chance for you too, Chara. Another chance for a child that completely and utterly does not deserve it. Who is bound to squander it, taint it with their touch, just as they ruined him.
"You do not have to lie to me, Asriel." It is hard, even now, to look him in the eye. But they force themself to be direct. Owe him that much. "I know things have been...far from perfect. They have been for a very long time."
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That was always the easy thing about him. He was always - always had to be, perhaps - eternally sincere, open as a book with his overly wide and expressive eyes. I'm not mad, he could say, and it would be plain as the nose on his face that he was, his eyes scrunched up and his paws screwed up into defiant fists or perhaps clenched around his ears.
Things are not perfect. They are not great. They are not even acceptable.
He says such things without a hint of cold sarcasm. Another chance for you too, Chara. Another chance for a child that completely and utterly does not deserve it. Who is bound to squander it, taint it with their touch, just as they ruined him.
"You do not have to lie to me, Asriel." It is hard, even now, to look him in the eye. But they force themself to be direct. Owe him that much. "I know things have been...far from perfect. They have been for a very long time."