[ he blinks. for a moment, he wants to laugh — it's funny, and terribly pure, but ultimately futile. it reminds him of himself. of the innocence he'll never know again.

he does not laugh. instead he stares, blankly, lips furling into an incredibly small smile, like the blooming bud of a flower. ]

She doesn't remember who I am. She doesn't even know that I exist.

[ something ebbs in the sea of his eyes. a quiet, deep sorrow. ]

You're a very kind person, Connor. Thank you. For trying.