[ That’s a frankly baffling thing to say, one that prompts Carver to stiffen and risk making direct eye contact. This isn’t how it would go with Pope, or Shaw. Sometimes Pope made him guess when he’d fucked up, but the lines of penance were always clear. You falter, you prove yourself again, then you move on. The world keeps turning.
This feels like a trap. He stares at Harold, calculating. Wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to say to any of that. ]
Sure, [ he says after a while, slowly. You have to say something, even if they’re still maneuvering around all the shit that’s left unsaid. ]
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This feels like a trap. He stares at Harold, calculating. Wondering what the fuck he’s supposed to say to any of that. ]
Sure, [ he says after a while, slowly. You have to say something, even if they’re still maneuvering around all the shit that’s left unsaid. ]