isn't it lovely all alone, heart made of glass, my mind of stone
If she recognizes that he seems nervous, she does not give it away. Despite being unable to generate her own emotions, she has become fairly good at recognizing them in others. She analyzed them, almost studiously, as though if she could memorize what facial expressions and what body language went with which emotion, she could learn to mimic it. If she could, maybe she could fall into some sort of false sense of normal. And maybe someday, she would find that she doesn’t have to fake it anymore.
But for now, she is still a blank canvas for anything that he tries to color her with. His small, subtle signals feel vibrant and bright inside her dim, endless void, and she lets those tranquil, pleasant tendrils coil around her. “Most aren’t very observant,” she says, his mouth hovering close to her face and she imperceptibly shifts towards him. “But I imagine it’s different, when you’re drowning in your own thoughts and emotions.”
“I don’t know who I am, either.” Her dark colored eyes cast upwards, to wherever the stars lay hidden behind the sapphire-colored daytime sky. For just a moment, there is something else that clouds her eyes; a look of longing, or homesickness, she isn’t even sure. But his question pulls her away, and she looks instead to the young boy next to her. “I think I must be empty,” but she doesn’t elaborate; she assumes he already knows. Already knows that she is detached and strange and incapable of so many things. “But I wouldn’t even know what to ask to be filled up with.”
@[Tiercel] she is so weird im sorry lmao