"Just preoccupied," Arthur says with half a breath. The lie is automatic, and against his wishes, and doesn't even have the decency to be convincing. He shakes his head, performs the arduous task of breathing in, and then on the out-breath corrects himself: "No, no nonono. No. Fuck."
It is, per usual, taking a hot minute to get from 'making the decision to say' to 'saying', and even now Arthur feels the urge to hedge, to find safety in secrecy. He's done it before. He's built a whole relationship on it before. But that was a worse and more buried secret than perhaps even the worst moments of the pit.
He takes a few more seconds and another breath to gather himself.
"I never- I don't think I ever told you about the- the King in Yellow. No, I- I'm sure I didn't."
There's no particular inflection on the name, but his hands are more expressive, the right (his other right) pushing down into the couch seat, the left (wooden finger and all) curling into a shaky sort of fist.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2023-10-30 07:49 am (UTC)It is, per usual, taking a hot minute to get from 'making the decision to say' to 'saying', and even now Arthur feels the urge to hedge, to find safety in secrecy. He's done it before. He's built a whole relationship on it before. But that was a worse and more buried secret than perhaps even the worst moments of the pit.
He takes a few more seconds and another breath to gather himself.
"I never- I don't think I ever told you about the- the King in Yellow. No, I- I'm sure I didn't."
There's no particular inflection on the name, but his hands are more expressive, the right (his other right) pushing down into the couch seat, the left (wooden finger and all) curling into a shaky sort of fist.