[Ben looks back at the reassurance, and he doesn't grin again, but the corners of his mouth quirk. He knows that, he does, but he's only capable of so much at any given time. So much trust. So much belief. He holds the knowledge as a mile marker, a goal to be obtained, something to work towards, and resigns himself to having to work towards it. There won't be a day where he wakes up and finds himself capable of it. He doesn't, anymore, need there to be.
So it's easy, too, to agree to that. Not now, maybe, not when Ben is still thrumming with the hidden but no less exhilarating thrill of admitting something so private, of sharing something that had once meant so much before it was rendered obsolete. But he will. His fingers clasped around his knees twist into themselves, and he is quiet a few more moments.
no subject
So it's easy, too, to agree to that. Not now, maybe, not when Ben is still thrumming with the hidden but no less exhilarating thrill of admitting something so private, of sharing something that had once meant so much before it was rendered obsolete. But he will. His fingers clasped around his knees twist into themselves, and he is quiet a few more moments.
Then:] May I stay for a while?