We don't have much choice in the matter. The sun comes up, and we sleep. It's innate to our biology, though I admit I find it inconvenient.
( But. Reno is having a terrible night. Louis is compassionate, but unaccustomed to actually offering that compassion to anyone. After all, who would want it, knowing what he is? Small acts of kindness can feel hypocritical when he's done so many unforgivable things. But Louis also isn't accustomed to having anything he might call "friends." Are he and Reno friends? They must be something by now, and friends seems as good a word for it as any, if he's made it onto the man's list of drunk dials. And he finds that he doesn't like the idea of that easy smile turning serious.
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( But. Reno is having a terrible night. Louis is compassionate, but unaccustomed to actually offering that compassion to anyone. After all, who would want it, knowing what he is? Small acts of kindness can feel hypocritical when he's done so many unforgivable things. But Louis also isn't accustomed to having anything he might call "friends." Are he and Reno friends? They must be something by now, and friends seems as good a word for it as any, if he's made it onto the man's list of drunk dials. And he finds that he doesn't like the idea of that easy smile turning serious.
He fidgets. Types. Deletes. Types again. )
Are you all right? Did something happen?