Ellis parses this for what it is too: a dismissal.
There is some other order of events where Bastien might have said something different, and Ellis might have given something up in the wake of it. Where he might have tread closer to the shape of a true thing, one Bastien has already skirted towards before.
But everything is harder now. (Being here is difficult, however Ellis makes it look otherwise.) And the flow of Bastien's response is a closed door. Ellis doesn't know how to pry at it. He doesn't know if he wants to.
It's been a long time since's it's been in his nature to press a point, to argue in his own defense rather than simply letting go of a thing.
So he settles on "Aye," as a rejoinder, turning on his heel to make for the door.
Bastien doesn’t watch him go. He examines the letter in his hands until he’s alone, and then he stares at a fixed spot on that letter. Ten seconds of nebulous bad feeling. What an asshole mixed with what’s wrong with me. I should apologize and he can fuck off in equal measure. What did Ellis expect. What did Bastien expect. A bit of wonder: the gulf between not really friends and really not friends feels unexpectedly wide.
He puts the letter down. The next one he lifts—Magota Batteux, what an unfortunate name—has the most promise of any so far. Matching loops and angles. Could be her. Look at those As against these triangles. And he’d turn traitor, too, if he’d grown up being called, inevitably, Maggot-a.
He will think more about Ellis later, probably, when he’s run out of things he has a better idea what to do about.
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put a bow on this y/n
There is some other order of events where Bastien might have said something different, and Ellis might have given something up in the wake of it. Where he might have tread closer to the shape of a true thing, one Bastien has already skirted towards before.
But everything is harder now. (Being here is difficult, however Ellis makes it look otherwise.) And the flow of Bastien's response is a closed door. Ellis doesn't know how to pry at it. He doesn't know if he wants to.
It's been a long time since's it's been in his nature to press a point, to argue in his own defense rather than simply letting go of a thing.
So he settles on "Aye," as a rejoinder, turning on his heel to make for the door.
no subject
He puts the letter down. The next one he lifts—Magota Batteux, what an unfortunate name—has the most promise of any so far. Matching loops and angles. Could be her. Look at those As against these triangles. And he’d turn traitor, too, if he’d grown up being called, inevitably, Maggot-a.
He will think more about Ellis later, probably, when he’s run out of things he has a better idea what to do about.