[Is it a matter of difficulty? Of...inability? Of looking at yourself and genuinely not seeing anything worth loving? He never struck them as someone to want to rub himself free from the equation.]
[It's quieter.]
[It's the gentle acceptance that no one should or would ask you so much as your name. The quiet knowledge that if you have nothing to give, you bear nothing of value, and you are, yourself, worthless. The solemn abandonment of everything that defines you for the sake of what others wish instead, because if no one wants it, why hold onto it?]
[The similarities, upon recollection, are glowering.]
[They should have noted it sooner.]
Perhaps it makes too much sense.
[They do, after all, know others possessed of the same Achilles' Heel.]
no subject
[It's quieter.]
[It's the gentle acceptance that no one should or would ask you so much as your name. The quiet knowledge that if you have nothing to give, you bear nothing of value, and you are, yourself, worthless. The solemn abandonment of everything that defines you for the sake of what others wish instead, because if no one wants it, why hold onto it?]
[The similarities, upon recollection, are glowering.]
[They should have noted it sooner.]
Perhaps it makes too much sense.
[They do, after all, know others possessed of the same Achilles' Heel.]