[ They're far better than the other kind of details that Ainosuke could be sharing, no matter how his gut twists as he reads them over. He feels a guilty sense of satisfaction that it had happened before they met, before there was the chance for him to be rejected. ]
[Two can play at this game of not knowing what to say, apparently. He types out a response and stares at it for a minute—it seems too formal, lacking the intimacy and honesty the situation seems to call for. But ultimately, it’s what he has for now. He can work on carving his way back to authenticity little by little as they go. He hits send.]
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My own story will hardly interest you.
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[ Now he's going to throw his phone onto the bed and collapse onto the floor with embarrassment. ]
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...Yeah, he's not getting it.]
I'm sure I would remember witnessing something like that.
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You weren't a witness.
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Is there?]
I thought
[His brain is working hard to rewind and recontextualise everything. Something about that process is making his face feel very hot.]
Didn't we have some discussion along the lines of you giving up control in ways that won't hurt you?
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If I had been honest, you would have laughed at best and rejected me at worst.
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You could have told me.
Though, I suppose it’s no matter. I treated you exactly as I would have, had I known.
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I always wanted you, you know.
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Where do you suppose we begin?
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How about a date?
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It would be my pleasure.
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