His hand stills as Georg touches his wrist - and he stops, he really LISTENS. Not just to the words, but to the way they're said, the feelings behind them. And for an almost painfully long time, he is silent for it, waiting for words to come.
When they do, they tumble out somewhat more frank than he expects.
"I don't like that you talk about yourself that way, Georg." He winces a bit at himself, but...nothing for it but to continue. He sighs a little, moving the free hand out of his hair to rest on his shoulder.
"You say I'm clever. You say I'm attentive, and perceptive, and smart. If that's so - then why would I be telling you these things, if it isn't what I see? I see the ink, I do, but it's not...you're not...." He struggles for a moment, plainly troubled, trying to figure out how to put his thought.
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When they do, they tumble out somewhat more frank than he expects.
"I don't like that you talk about yourself that way, Georg." He winces a bit at himself, but...nothing for it but to continue. He sighs a little, moving the free hand out of his hair to rest on his shoulder.
"You say I'm clever. You say I'm attentive, and perceptive, and smart. If that's so - then why would I be telling you these things, if it isn't what I see? I see the ink, I do, but it's not...you're not...." He struggles for a moment, plainly troubled, trying to figure out how to put his thought.