[ He wants to reach out, to do something, when the first few tears spill. Gorgug doesn't, a hand only moving off the fish, but he does think of something better. Maybe, once, Rosie has done speaking, as this is serious: he doesn't want to interrupt her, or seem like he's not paying attention. As if he doesn't take this seriously, when he knows this is important.
So he puts aside the fish that's nearly complete, freeing his lap for his hands to rest in, once he thinks to raise the goggles over his head (it takes longer than one might think it should). ]
I'd like us to be friends. [ This time, he doesn't hurry to speak, but doesn't need to think about it, either. ] I think we...all make the best choices that we can, that make sense for us and what we've been through. And I appreciate, that you wanted to protect me. Even if it made you sad-- I... I don't hold it against you. I want to protect people, too.
[ But: ] But I'd like you to be happier.
[ He finally takes the time now, to dig into one of his jean pockets and to pull out a packet of tissues. It's been used, by the packaging not being as packed as it could, as he holds it out for Rosie to take.
And he looks aside at the daybed, says- ] I can move this, if you wanna sit closer-- and, you know, if it's hard to talk about shit, I've actually-- I don't know if I told you I died too? And I've killed a lot of people, so I-- I don't know, I don't think very hard about the kind of people I make friends with. We're all awful to somebody, so-
[ It's a serious conversation, and yet when it comes to the topic of judgment of individuals, Gorgug shows a familiar side to him, rambling as he starts to move the trinkets and metal pieces on the daybed he sits on to make room for Rosie. She'll want to sit snugly on the seating, won't she? It's cold out! He doesn't want her to be cold. ]
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So he puts aside the fish that's nearly complete, freeing his lap for his hands to rest in, once he thinks to raise the goggles over his head (it takes longer than one might think it should). ]
I'd like us to be friends. [ This time, he doesn't hurry to speak, but doesn't need to think about it, either. ] I think we...all make the best choices that we can, that make sense for us and what we've been through. And I appreciate, that you wanted to protect me. Even if it made you sad-- I... I don't hold it against you. I want to protect people, too.
[ But: ] But I'd like you to be happier.
[ He finally takes the time now, to dig into one of his jean pockets and to pull out a packet of tissues. It's been used, by the packaging not being as packed as it could, as he holds it out for Rosie to take.
And he looks aside at the daybed, says- ] I can move this, if you wanna sit closer-- and, you know, if it's hard to talk about shit, I've actually-- I don't know if I told you I died too? And I've killed a lot of people, so I-- I don't know, I don't think very hard about the kind of people I make friends with. We're all awful to somebody, so-
[ It's a serious conversation, and yet when it comes to the topic of judgment of individuals, Gorgug shows a familiar side to him, rambling as he starts to move the trinkets and metal pieces on the daybed he sits on to make room for Rosie. She'll want to sit snugly on the seating, won't she? It's cold out! He doesn't want her to be cold. ]