(Eddie says absolutely nothing. The kid was a raging hypochondriac, had mental problems because of it that were so ingrained that he'd literally die with them, but that hardly made him an idiot. He already got it.
Though...a small part of him is pleased that the other person somehow sounded approving. Eddie might not like this person, but he was a twelve year old and so, so many twelve year olds just wanted approval. Even if they never admitted it.)
You probably still feel pain though. Unless you specifically don't. (Because with those eyes flashing like that, Eddie is now at least aware he's not dealing with a human. Or at least not a full human.)
Why's it off the table? (A genuine question. Chara seemed pretty adamant about the death thing. They seemed the kind of person to do whatever they wanted to do as well.
Eddie's brows furrow together before he stares down at his shoes.)
I don't trust adults.
(He admits this because Chara, to him, is at least a child and all children know that adults cannot be trusted.)
I know they lie and twist words to get what they want from someone. They're good at making sure kids know who's in charge and how to make demands.
(He's talking about his mother, a feeling that burns open a hole in him wide and raw. Eddie is trying, he really is, to get out of his cyclical conviction of his mother's lies. It's just. So hard.)
...But sometimes I lie back to adults. Because it makes it easier. You know that though. (He's gotten pretty decent at lying to adults, and he thinks Chara would understand. What kid doesn't?)
I think I'd be as doubtful with them as I am with you, but I might act otherwise because some adults won't leave you alone until you say what they want you to say. Like when my mom asked if I understood why queers burn in hell and I said I did. I really only did because I knew she wouldn't stop asking me until I said yes. Adults do that all the time. They know what answer they want, they just want to hear you say it.
(Eddie shrugs his small shoulders and sort of just picks absently at the edge of his shirt. That's a lot of talking, but Eddie did that a lot. Spouted endlessly when someone got him going.)
no subject
Though...a small part of him is pleased that the other person somehow sounded approving. Eddie might not like this person, but he was a twelve year old and so, so many twelve year olds just wanted approval. Even if they never admitted it.)
You probably still feel pain though. Unless you specifically don't. (Because with those eyes flashing like that, Eddie is now at least aware he's not dealing with a human. Or at least not a full human.)
Why's it off the table? (A genuine question. Chara seemed pretty adamant about the death thing. They seemed the kind of person to do whatever they wanted to do as well.
Eddie's brows furrow together before he stares down at his shoes.)
I don't trust adults.
(He admits this because Chara, to him, is at least a child and all children know that adults cannot be trusted.)
I know they lie and twist words to get what they want from someone. They're good at making sure kids know who's in charge and how to make demands.
(He's talking about his mother, a feeling that burns open a hole in him wide and raw. Eddie is trying, he really is, to get out of his cyclical conviction of his mother's lies. It's just. So hard.)
...But sometimes I lie back to adults. Because it makes it easier. You know that though. (He's gotten pretty decent at lying to adults, and he thinks Chara would understand. What kid doesn't?)
I think I'd be as doubtful with them as I am with you, but I might act otherwise because some adults won't leave you alone until you say what they want you to say. Like when my mom asked if I understood why queers burn in hell and I said I did. I really only did because I knew she wouldn't stop asking me until I said yes. Adults do that all the time. They know what answer they want, they just want to hear you say it.
(Eddie shrugs his small shoulders and sort of just picks absently at the edge of his shirt. That's a lot of talking, but Eddie did that a lot. Spouted endlessly when someone got him going.)