That people will take "flying leaps off those cliffs" no matter what you do. [His lips press thin, noticing how Hank is definitely not making any movement towards the bed.]
The fact that you've shown concern, and presented a solution, has put the idea in others' heads already. Sometimes simply knowing that someone worries for your well-being can affect, even if just slightly, reckless or impulsive inclinations.
[Even with his brain working at half - or maybe one quarter - capacity Hank can't help but tie that little factoid back to himself. It's not really worth it to try to figure out if Connor meant that to be a message to Hank or not, but the message is definitely there.]
That'd be nice, wouldn't it. Sounds like a nice world you live in, Connor.
[But not a real one. That doesn't really happen. Fuck, Connor might as well leave.]
Think I'll probably fall asleep soon so you can, uh, go back to- [He thinks briefly, reflexively, of saying something sarcastic here, some dig at the idea of androids having hobbies. It doesn't take him long to decide against it. He's too tired.] -you know, whatever. Thanks for the talk.
[Again, there'll be no clarity from Connor. Hank can take it as he will.]
...If you're sure. But if you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me as always.
[He says this, but then he lingers. As if planted to the ground via a magnet, not wanting to leave just yet. Something left unfinished in the air, and a dearth of resolution will always settle unwell in Connor.
But eventually, he does go. The door closes with a soft click behind him.]
[Hank murmurs it, not really a reply so much as a breath, as something to say, and when he hears the door close it's a minute before he can stand to open his eyes and check. Once he does, it's a minute before he can close them again.
Then he sits there a while, listening to the quiet and watching the dark. The rest of that bottle earlier actually took him a way toward passing out; it's not that long before he falls asleep. Thank god.]
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no subject
The fact that you've shown concern, and presented a solution, has put the idea in others' heads already. Sometimes simply knowing that someone worries for your well-being can affect, even if just slightly, reckless or impulsive inclinations.
no subject
[Even with his brain working at half - or maybe one quarter - capacity Hank can't help but tie that little factoid back to himself. It's not really worth it to try to figure out if Connor meant that to be a message to Hank or not, but the message is definitely there.]
That'd be nice, wouldn't it. Sounds like a nice world you live in, Connor.
[But not a real one. That doesn't really happen. Fuck, Connor might as well leave.]
Think I'll probably fall asleep soon so you can, uh, go back to- [He thinks briefly, reflexively, of saying something sarcastic here, some dig at the idea of androids having hobbies. It doesn't take him long to decide against it. He's too tired.] -you know, whatever. Thanks for the talk.
no subject
...If you're sure. But if you need anything, please don't hesitate to contact me as always.
[He says this, but then he lingers. As if planted to the ground via a magnet, not wanting to leave just yet. Something left unfinished in the air, and a dearth of resolution will always settle unwell in Connor.
But eventually, he does go. The door closes with a soft click behind him.]
no subject
[Hank murmurs it, not really a reply so much as a breath, as something to say, and when he hears the door close it's a minute before he can stand to open his eyes and check. Once he does, it's a minute before he can close them again.
Then he sits there a while, listening to the quiet and watching the dark. The rest of that bottle earlier actually took him a way toward passing out; it's not that long before he falls asleep. Thank god.]