But it's probably as better a time as any, really. A privacy the train doesn't grant, the pair separated from the others again. There's a humour inspired, nothing more than a breath of a chuckle that leaves his lips. Tidus tips his head, hand meeting the back of his hair and rubbing awkwardly at the scalp. ]
I wouldn't go that far... [ The hurt thing, anyway. It's a bit too much for a guy like him, not a way he'd want to describe himself.
But it's not the point, is it? You're hiding-- He can't deny that. But there's nothing he cay say that'll offer Inigo a good answer. Isn't that why he hides? Because there's nothing good - there's nothing good he can share. No good that comes with it. Even if this ideal, the alternative would be worse. ]
...There's things I'm not ready to talk about. [ It comes after a small silence, spoken calmer, or - is the better word resigned? Conceding? This willingness about him; a willingness still denying. ] And there's nothing...good it'll do. I know you worry. You want to help and fix it, but there's stuff that...no one can fix. And it'll just worry you more, and I--
I don't want that.
[ I don't want that. For things to change, to become all the more complicated. Hasn't he already said too much? Because here Inigo is, thinking and worrying, about him and what he thinks home means to Tidus, when home isn't that at all. When there isn't a home. Not anymore.
Not ever.
Tidus raises his head, eyes finding their way to Inigo's face now. Not turning if their eyes should meet, not right away, but the same certainty that keeps his chin lifted leaves him, when that certainty too doesn't have reason to stick. ]
...I took it off when Yuna left. [ He can admit this - at least this much. ] I thought...I could follow her if I didn't wear it. Just long enough to see what was on the other side.
[ There's no pride in that truth, no strength to it. A shameful confession, knowing the result of his actions. The possibility. ]
no subject
But it's probably as better a time as any, really. A privacy the train doesn't grant, the pair separated from the others again. There's a humour inspired, nothing more than a breath of a chuckle that leaves his lips. Tidus tips his head, hand meeting the back of his hair and rubbing awkwardly at the scalp. ]
I wouldn't go that far... [ The hurt thing, anyway. It's a bit too much for a guy like him, not a way he'd want to describe himself.
But it's not the point, is it? You're hiding-- He can't deny that. But there's nothing he cay say that'll offer Inigo a good answer. Isn't that why he hides? Because there's nothing good - there's nothing good he can share. No good that comes with it. Even if this ideal, the alternative would be worse. ]
...There's things I'm not ready to talk about. [ It comes after a small silence, spoken calmer, or - is the better word resigned? Conceding? This willingness about him; a willingness still denying. ] And there's nothing...good it'll do. I know you worry. You want to help and fix it, but there's stuff that...no one can fix. And it'll just worry you more, and I--
I don't want that.
[ I don't want that. For things to change, to become all the more complicated. Hasn't he already said too much? Because here Inigo is, thinking and worrying, about him and what he thinks home means to Tidus, when home isn't that at all. When there isn't a home. Not anymore.
Not ever.
Tidus raises his head, eyes finding their way to Inigo's face now. Not turning if their eyes should meet, not right away, but the same certainty that keeps his chin lifted leaves him, when that certainty too doesn't have reason to stick. ]
...I took it off when Yuna left. [ He can admit this - at least this much. ] I thought...I could follow her if I didn't wear it. Just long enough to see what was on the other side.
[ There's no pride in that truth, no strength to it. A shameful confession, knowing the result of his actions. The possibility. ]