It's everything he ever wanted. Reminder of a place where he has a place. Made a place, more like, came in as himself and carved a space against all odds that the people around him kept. Someone who's seen him and knows him and can still say they want him, like wanting him is easy, and him fitting is easy. No hoops to jump through, no magic switch to flip that he was born missing, no amount of himself that he's supposed to somehow choke back.
Like Ed couldn't do or be or choose anything else in the world that would be a hundred times better in a heartbeat. Smart and funny and brave and creative and-- and respected. Knows how to put on the right face with people and have it work.
Good. Better than he thinks he is when the layers get peeled back, no matter what's under those layers. ]
I can fold socks. [ There are important tenets of anchoring a person more properly down to Earth than in the mental spiral they were very carefully cultivating. Time. Distance. A little touch. In some special cases, their own vague confusion.
He can just about latch onto socks as an entry point. A foothold in the rest, which is big and terrifying in the least terrifying way that a thing can still be terrifying. It's like Ed threw him a brain lifeline. Can he fold them? He must do. Can't be hard. He doesn't have socks right now so he can't prove it, but he's pretty sure he could.
That's probably not a grand place to stop after I had fucking nothing, before you and you're what I want. ]
Do you ever... do you ever feel like you pulled a fuckery on someone, only you can't figure out how you did it?
[ He's never tricked anyone into liking him in his life, let alone anyone half as clever as Edward, and yet?? ]
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It's everything he ever wanted. Reminder of a place where he has a place. Made a place, more like, came in as himself and carved a space against all odds that the people around him kept. Someone who's seen him and knows him and can still say they want him, like wanting him is easy, and him fitting is easy. No hoops to jump through, no magic switch to flip that he was born missing, no amount of himself that he's supposed to somehow choke back.
Like Ed couldn't do or be or choose anything else in the world that would be a hundred times better in a heartbeat. Smart and funny and brave and creative and-- and respected. Knows how to put on the right face with people and have it work.
Good. Better than he thinks he is when the layers get peeled back, no matter what's under those layers. ]
I can fold socks. [ There are important tenets of anchoring a person more properly down to Earth than in the mental spiral they were very carefully cultivating. Time. Distance. A little touch. In some special cases, their own vague confusion.
He can just about latch onto socks as an entry point. A foothold in the rest, which is big and terrifying in the least terrifying way that a thing can still be terrifying. It's like Ed threw him a brain lifeline. Can he fold them? He must do. Can't be hard. He doesn't have socks right now so he can't prove it, but he's pretty sure he could.
That's probably not a grand place to stop after I had fucking nothing, before you and you're what I want. ]
Do you ever... do you ever feel like you pulled a fuckery on someone, only you can't figure out how you did it?
[ He's never tricked anyone into liking him in his life, let alone anyone half as clever as Edward, and yet?? ]