[Benedict, having ruminated for so long now that he's all but counting down the minutes until he can finally leave work and go be unobserved for a while, looks up quietly.]
...I... tried to.
[His reticence, at least, doesn't seem to come from fear of what Byerly will do or say, as before. He's exhausted, from exhausting himself.]
[ What the hell else is there to say here? Maker, Byerly hates the way the boy acts when he's like this - cringing and miserable. It'd be so much easier if he were the sort of person who reacted defiantly, rather than miserably. He'd almost prefer someone who spat in his face. ]
[The words are an unexpected (but welcome) balm, yet somehow just manage to make him all the more aware of what a disaster today has been. He needs to go smoke something, maybe mash his face into a pillow and throw a fit like the spoiled brat he is, release some tension, but only where no one can see or hear or judge.
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...I... tried to.
[His reticence, at least, doesn't seem to come from fear of what Byerly will do or say, as before. He's exhausted, from exhausting himself.]
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[ What the hell else is there to say here? Maker, Byerly hates the way the boy acts when he's like this - cringing and miserable. It'd be so much easier if he were the sort of person who reacted defiantly, rather than miserably. He'd almost prefer someone who spat in his face. ]
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[The words are an unexpected (but welcome) balm, yet somehow just manage to make him all the more aware of what a disaster today has been. He needs to go smoke something, maybe mash his face into a pillow and throw a fit like the spoiled brat he is, release some tension, but only where no one can see or hear or judge.
In the meantime, he's lucky to still be here.]
...um,
[But perhaps the point is made.]
...could I take off a bit early?
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You may.
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They Are Free]