That’s one of the many things Stede loves about Ed: his straightforward nature. The lack of filter is endearing, even it isn’t kind.
“It’s that too,” he admits, sitting himself down slowly—almost carefully—on the edge of a plush chair near the couch. Like he’s afraid one wrong move will rescind his invitation here for him. “Welcome to high society: it’s all a farce of some kind.”
He spends the next few seconds taking Ed in: His pose. His exhaustion. His hands curl into loose fists in his lap, resisting the urge to reach for him.
“We can talk about anything.” There’s another moment’s hesitation before he keeps speaking. “You… said you’ve been a mess. Do you… want to talk about that?”
no subject
“It’s that too,” he admits, sitting himself down slowly—almost carefully—on the edge of a plush chair near the couch. Like he’s afraid one wrong move will rescind his invitation here for him. “Welcome to high society: it’s all a farce of some kind.”
He spends the next few seconds taking Ed in: His pose. His exhaustion. His hands curl into loose fists in his lap, resisting the urge to reach for him.
“We can talk about anything.” There’s another moment’s hesitation before he keeps speaking. “You… said you’ve been a mess. Do you… want to talk about that?”