edward masen.

SUCH A CASUAL comment from her should not PLEASE him so much. his ego can’t STAND it, it seems, inflating so readily under her words as it does. “ don’t be SORRY. they’re PRACTICALLY family. still trying to get my dad to release me to them for ADOPTION. ” his grin says that he’s JOKING, but his eyes are flat, bright with SINCERITY. he reclines in his chair, hands clasped in his lap, all the air of RELAXATION about him – NOTES? he knows biology almost TOO well. immediately, her inquiry brings on the STORM, the shift in the air between them almost PALPABLE as his expression darkens and he AVERTS his gaze. “ i thought you didn’t want to get PHILOSOPHICAL. ” no, he didn’t want to TALK about such a thing.

she figures his reiteration of her excuse as to not delve into details is his way of telling her that he doesn’t wish to talk about those things – she instantly feels rotten about ASKING, reminding herself to BOX her conversation IN; keep it simple. you aren’t sylvia path.
❛ ——– right, ❜ she agrees quietly, clearing her throat and readjusting herself before flipping to a clear page in her notebook and starting to, rapidly, copy the notes from the board, despite that she’s nearly memorized this regurgitated content. after a moment, ❛ —- sorry. ❜
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