[ Krouse isn't jealous. Jealousy would involve treating their situations as comparable, which they're plainly not.
It's more of a wistfulness that seeps out through the twist in his smile at the broad strokes of the picture Riz is painting. His mom hadn't always loved all of his choices, but she never tried to stop him from seeing them through after she'd had her say.
And there's Riz's heretofore undetailed father, apparently enough of a known quantity to be mentioned fondly. Good for him, however he left the picture. ]
And you're good at it. [ An established fact, as far as Krouse is concerned. ] Who doesn't like bragging about their high-achiever son? 'Oh, that's my Riz - he slew a dragon last semester.'
[ The inflection of his imitation is gently friendly, not mocking. It almost definitely doesn't sound like anyone's mother, but it's more about the spirit of the thing. ]
I wasn't ever any good at lying to my mom either. Other people? Not a problem. But she always knew. Didn't always call me on it, which was honestly worse, sometimes. Like when I started smoking - [ he laughs, twisting the corner of the sugar packet ] - I actually thought I was getting away with it? But then this one night, I snuck out back after she went to bed, and when I came back in there was a bottle of Febreeze and a pack of nicotine gum on the kitchen table. I felt like such a fucking idiot.
[ But it's a warm memory now, the sting of panic and guilt at being caught eroded away. What's left is the support hand-in-hand with the tacit disapproval, even if he never did manage to quit. ]
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It's more of a wistfulness that seeps out through the twist in his smile at the broad strokes of the picture Riz is painting. His mom hadn't always loved all of his choices, but she never tried to stop him from seeing them through after she'd had her say.
And there's Riz's heretofore undetailed father, apparently enough of a known quantity to be mentioned fondly. Good for him, however he left the picture. ]
And you're good at it. [ An established fact, as far as Krouse is concerned. ] Who doesn't like bragging about their high-achiever son? 'Oh, that's my Riz - he slew a dragon last semester.'
[ The inflection of his imitation is gently friendly, not mocking. It almost definitely doesn't sound like anyone's mother, but it's more about the spirit of the thing. ]
I wasn't ever any good at lying to my mom either. Other people? Not a problem. But she always knew. Didn't always call me on it, which was honestly worse, sometimes. Like when I started smoking - [ he laughs, twisting the corner of the sugar packet ] - I actually thought I was getting away with it? But then this one night, I snuck out back after she went to bed, and when I came back in there was a bottle of Febreeze and a pack of nicotine gum on the kitchen table. I felt like such a fucking idiot.
[ But it's a warm memory now, the sting of panic and guilt at being caught eroded away. What's left is the support hand-in-hand with the tacit disapproval, even if he never did manage to quit. ]