[ If he were trying to shift the mood, he would've said: "You didn't seem like the type that needed permission." But he doesn't know if that is the truth between them.
His head tilts to the side at the question if he has another name. He's used the same name for decades. He could've changed it. No one from Lumiere would know; no expeditioner would. If he asked, he thinks that the Gestrals, Monoco, and even Esquie would agree to his request.
He breathes out a little laugh through his nose. ]
You can call me "Alvaret," if you like. [ It probably would be easier than calling him "Verso" when she knows it isn't true. ] Still, I don't have another name but that ... [ No matter what he can't give it up.
In the end, he can't forsake his name. He can only forsake his existence yet never find it in him to blame anyone. One day ... others might end up calling Aline cruel for having made him, but he can't; he can't when he feels all the love and care she put into his monstrous existence.
As much as he hate himself, he loves those that love him so much more. ]
I'm afraid I'm nothing but stupid.
[ He finally smiles at her, soft and warm. She can stay close to him as long as it doesn't hurt. When it does, she can leave him. That much is fair and right. A dead man shouldn't shackle or command the living; he is on borrowed time and doesn't know how much he has left. Should he live it being unkind to someone who has been grieving without relief? ]
I don't know how much time I have left in this world, Clea, but... I won't hold you to what life I have, either. [ She deserves to find joy for herself. Perhaps, that is something Verso wanted to say to her? It's unclear. He is unsure, but -- ] I'm not him.
[ Something she knows; something they know, but -- ]
But still, since I don't know how long I have... would you like to say goodbye? Just in case?
[ Offer her what Renoir took out of her hands. A chance to say goodbye to him. He isn't asking to be Gommage but asking to take some of her burden; to take some of her pain; to be an imaginary friend to say her peace to with no one else to take those words away. ]
no subject
His head tilts to the side at the question if he has another name. He's used the same name for decades. He could've changed it. No one from Lumiere would know; no expeditioner would. If he asked, he thinks that the Gestrals, Monoco, and even Esquie would agree to his request.
He breathes out a little laugh through his nose. ]
You can call me "Alvaret," if you like. [ It probably would be easier than calling him "Verso" when she knows it isn't true. ] Still, I don't have another name but that ... [ No matter what he can't give it up.
In the end, he can't forsake his name. He can only forsake his existence yet never find it in him to blame anyone. One day ... others might end up calling Aline cruel for having made him, but he can't; he can't when he feels all the love and care she put into his monstrous existence.
As much as he hate himself, he loves those that love him so much more. ]
I'm afraid I'm nothing but stupid.
[ He finally smiles at her, soft and warm. She can stay close to him as long as it doesn't hurt. When it does, she can leave him. That much is fair and right. A dead man shouldn't shackle or command the living; he is on borrowed time and doesn't know how much he has left. Should he live it being unkind to someone who has been grieving without relief? ]
I don't know how much time I have left in this world, Clea, but... I won't hold you to what life I have, either. [ She deserves to find joy for herself. Perhaps, that is something Verso wanted to say to her? It's unclear. He is unsure, but -- ] I'm not him.
[ Something she knows; something they know, but -- ]
But still, since I don't know how long I have... would you like to say goodbye? Just in case?
[ Offer her what Renoir took out of her hands. A chance to say goodbye to him. He isn't asking to be Gommage but asking to take some of her burden; to take some of her pain; to be an imaginary friend to say her peace to with no one else to take those words away. ]