[The temptation to brush her off returns with a vengeance; he just wants to wallow in his own misery again, something that is pretty much impossible for him to do comfortably when he has an audience. He hates being seen like this. It grates on his pride and fuels that perpetual self-loathing that he hasn't been able to shake since the replication taught him a lesson in his own worthlessness. He doesn't need her presence here to remind him of how pathetic he must look right now.
He wants to yell, to lose his temper and freak out at her and, most likely, frighten her off. He shouldn't get comfort for this; he shouldn't need it, and he sure as hell doesn't deserve it.
Anyone who can murder their own mother, even as an illusion, is nothing more than a monster, after all.]
No one... asked you to do that.
[It doesn't come out as harsh or fierce as he'd like. His voice is strained, half-hitched and uncertain. He doesn't even know what he wants anymore.
Except forget. He knows he wants that- the one thing he absolutely won't get.]
no subject
He wants to yell, to lose his temper and freak out at her and, most likely, frighten her off. He shouldn't get comfort for this; he shouldn't need it, and he sure as hell doesn't deserve it.
Anyone who can murder their own mother, even as an illusion, is nothing more than a monster, after all.]
No one... asked you to do that.
[It doesn't come out as harsh or fierce as he'd like. His voice is strained, half-hitched and uncertain. He doesn't even know what he wants anymore.
Except forget. He knows he wants that- the one thing he absolutely won't get.]