[And that? Is enough. Guzma understands the desire to just...pretend like everything is fine, to go along with this hazy dream where everything exists to suit your personal desires. A fantasy world made to appeal to you directly. How many times has he imagined such a place himself? He's become dead to such niceties, sadly, they no longer appeal to him anymore. He's grown too bitter, cold, and distant. Happiness like this? He's too much a realist and a pessimist to accept them as truth. But when he was young, when the sting still ached, this was an escape. A world of dreams where he could fulfill everyone's wishes and be happy.
So he understands.
Nodding his head, he gives the Drifter one final, hesitant look before closing his eyes to drown out the false world around them. He doesn't belong here anyway. He just hopes his friend will make good on his word to return. The pull of perfection is difficult to break, but...he's always been good at destroying things. Guzma just doesn't want it to come to that.]
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So he understands.
Nodding his head, he gives the Drifter one final, hesitant look before closing his eyes to drown out the false world around them. He doesn't belong here anyway. He just hopes his friend will make good on his word to return. The pull of perfection is difficult to break, but...he's always been good at destroying things. Guzma just doesn't want it to come to that.]
I'll be waiting for you, bro.