[He says it with some measure of relief, with a slight loosening of the shoulders because even if he doesn't understand it, can't wrap his head around how such a thing could possibly be, his trust in Portia is absolute, unshakable. She wouldn't lie to him on some cruel whim amidst all of this other strangeness, this much he knows.
Which...works to ignite his guilt in the next instance, and even if she averts her gaze it's hard to miss the hesitation there, would take a bigger fool than him to realise what he'd done must have been wretched, terrifying for her. And that's a knowledge that reiterates to him what he already knows-- that he's a disaster to be around, that he causes only difficulty and pain.
She's still talking though, and as he listens his brow furrows, mulling it over, thinking it through.]
Which would mean killing Lucio would have ended the plague, and killing him a second time would have prevented a second wave. Only I didn't kill him, which begs the question, who did, and why...
[He's thinking aloud, words half-muttered as he walks, and it takes him a moment to realise she's probably heard this before, that it's only novel, and of interest, to him. He stops himself, there. Moves to take her hand in his.]
All that with the hanging...I'm sorry. It must have frightened you.
[And perhaps she's heard that before too, but he doesn't care. Feels the need to say it anyway.]
no subject
[He says it with some measure of relief, with a slight loosening of the shoulders because even if he doesn't understand it, can't wrap his head around how such a thing could possibly be, his trust in Portia is absolute, unshakable. She wouldn't lie to him on some cruel whim amidst all of this other strangeness, this much he knows.
Which...works to ignite his guilt in the next instance, and even if she averts her gaze it's hard to miss the hesitation there, would take a bigger fool than him to realise what he'd done must have been wretched, terrifying for her. And that's a knowledge that reiterates to him what he already knows-- that he's a disaster to be around, that he causes only difficulty and pain.
She's still talking though, and as he listens his brow furrows, mulling it over, thinking it through.]
Which would mean killing Lucio would have ended the plague, and killing him a second time would have prevented a second wave. Only I didn't kill him, which begs the question, who did, and why...
[He's thinking aloud, words half-muttered as he walks, and it takes him a moment to realise she's probably heard this before, that it's only novel, and of interest, to him. He stops himself, there. Moves to take her hand in his.]
All that with the hanging...I'm sorry. It must have frightened you.
[And perhaps she's heard that before too, but he doesn't care. Feels the need to say it anyway.]