Well. That's about as shocking as John pointing out that not being truthful, trying to please, means not letting people know him, or noting that humans are all made the same way but are wildly different from each other still. As shocking as John coming to find him in the woods all the way back at Halloween. As stunning as Roman saying Edwin has a conscience, or Malcolm apologizing and explaining the answers to Edwin's questions about philosophy when he realized the questions themselves were genuine. As Arthur saying he was sorry the first time. Hunter not hurting him after he killed Collins. It's that same firecracker-loud, flare-bright sensation in his mind, the shock of something important stitching itself into him.
He stays very still with that fingertip perched on his gel-cool skin, the smell a strange sideways echo of the scent he thinks of as John's--the cold between stars, the light of foreign moons, scents that humans would say aren't scents because they don't know how to breathe them in properly.
His eyes are doing that annoying tearing-up-thing again. John probably doesn't cry half this much. "I don't want to do it again."
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"R... Really?"
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"Even though I really don't like torture. I don't want you to ever do something like that again."
He puts a fingertip on Edwin's nose.
"I'm not asking you to promise me. I'm just...telling you, that's a true thing. But I'm proud of you for thinking of him, and trying to make amends."
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His eyes are doing that annoying tearing-up-thing again. John probably doesn't cry half this much. "I don't want to do it again."
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"Thank you. I... I won't let him see it's me. Whatever it is. Because then he won't accept it, probably."