[He doesn't quite flinch when Shion touches his hair, but he does startle slightly. It's an echo of something that's not real. Not real, not real, not real -
Connor takes an egg from the basket and holds it like one might hold a skull, if one were about to do a certain monologue from Hamlet.]
Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well, Shion, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He had borne me on his back a thousand times, and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how often. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar?
[If he just quotes Hamlet, then he doesn't have to think about anything that's led to him doing this. He knows it's running away, but he's still not ready to deal with the very real fact that he might have fucked up being friends with someone so badly that he now has a crush on them. He's barely dealing with his own queerness, he doesn't need any more issues to pile on top of it this second.]
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Connor takes an egg from the basket and holds it like one might hold a skull, if one were about to do a certain monologue from Hamlet.]
Alas, poor Yorick. I knew him well, Shion, a fellow of infinite jest, of most excellent fancy. He had borne me on his back a thousand times, and now, how abhorred in my imagination it is! My gorge rises at it. Here hung those lips that I have kissed I know not how often. Where be your gibes now? Your gambols? Your songs? Your flashes of merriment that were wont to set the table on a roar?
[If he just quotes Hamlet, then he doesn't have to think about anything that's led to him doing this. He knows it's running away, but he's still not ready to deal with the very real fact that he might have fucked up being friends with someone so badly that he now has a crush on them. He's barely dealing with his own queerness, he doesn't need any more issues to pile on top of it this second.]