[for Henshaw] but if you try sometimes
He was here for a Completely Unrelated Reason, but he's forgotten it now.
It's not something he doesn't Understand, really. He's got a Sense of why there are pages upon pages of writing on this desk, why there are familiar Names scattered through them and where the Impulse to craft a more perfect world comes from, although he himself had never been able to take pen to page about it.
But he's got his own Stories. He's got a whole Universe in his mind where Isaac and Urania have lived Happily Ever After in their very own Castle in the stars, where Victor and Zoë have their own beautiful Children, where his Father and Mother are Very Much in Love.
That doesn't make this tale involving himself and Zoë any more Sensible. That's why he's here puzzling over the pages rather than Whatever he came here to do, barely paying attention to the door.
It's not something he doesn't Understand, really. He's got a Sense of why there are pages upon pages of writing on this desk, why there are familiar Names scattered through them and where the Impulse to craft a more perfect world comes from, although he himself had never been able to take pen to page about it.
But he's got his own Stories. He's got a whole Universe in his mind where Isaac and Urania have lived Happily Ever After in their very own Castle in the stars, where Victor and Zoë have their own beautiful Children, where his Father and Mother are Very Much in Love.
That doesn't make this tale involving himself and Zoë any more Sensible. That's why he's here puzzling over the pages rather than Whatever he came here to do, barely paying attention to the door.
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"...so write about that."
Something that had Actually Happened.
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"...then make it better. This... is an acceptable lie."
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A beat. "I can't come up with a good reason for someone wanting to... with..." And then she trails off.
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Because he could see that being an Engaging Purpose.
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"You're... much lovelier when you're silet, Miss."
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