[He remains quiet, feeling as if he stands upon a shore with the gentle, synchronous waves of Fitz’s anxious energy lapping at his feet. Holding his body language still, put on pause, an android’s habit that his friend has seen time and time again. Until that same soundlessness is interrupted by a rustle of clothing, Markus’ arm reaching out to slot the arch of his palm onto the other man’s shoulder. Fingers press lightly into a squeeze.]
It runs both ways. Your friendship is irreplaceable to me, no matter what you feel might be going on in your head. Everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve talked about, none of it is invalidated by your own uncertainty.
[His relationships with the displaced form a tapestry, and Fitz’ thread is vibrantly fibrous, interlocking with the rest in patterned lattices. This is indelible, proof of support and friendship already given, and never untangled by perceived self-doubt.
Mismatched eyes don't remove themselves from other, and thus begins Markus’ focus on the mind.]
When you don’t feel like that person, though— is that the corrupted data talking?
no subject
It runs both ways. Your friendship is irreplaceable to me, no matter what you feel might be going on in your head. Everything we’ve been through, everything we’ve talked about, none of it is invalidated by your own uncertainty.
[His relationships with the displaced form a tapestry, and Fitz’ thread is vibrantly fibrous, interlocking with the rest in patterned lattices. This is indelible, proof of support and friendship already given, and never untangled by perceived self-doubt.
Mismatched eyes don't remove themselves from other, and thus begins Markus’ focus on the mind.]
When you don’t feel like that person, though— is that the corrupted data talking?