expiationlogs | may catch-all!

[ When Ange offers to go exploring the new city with Claude, he has to jump at the opportunity; he's been doing plenty of exploration himself, but it's undoubtedly helpful to get more minds on the case, and besides, Ange is far better equipped for this sort of thing than he is. It's embarrassing that he's struggled to adjust to the new modern sensibilities of this city, but he has. It makes him feel desperately behind, like he needs to sit down for a course in exactly what technological advances have been made and how to use them.

Frustratingly enough, his sentencing continues to bear down on him, something he's hoping that Ange won't catch onto. It's not even that he feels particularly grim today, or that he's displeased to be here. It's just that... he's not happy either. But he almost never is. That's never been an issue before.

In the back of his head, he can hear Hilda's nagging voice: I've only seen you genuinely smile a handful of times, all of these years.

It's rude, is what it is. Who the hell is happy all the time anyway? Why is it such a crime to be pleasant? Every time he tries, he feels his facial muscles battling him, contorting his expression back into a mask of smooth neutrality until he gives up entirely. He can't force joviality in his voice as they look around the entertainment district, noting, ] This place sure got a whole lot less wholesome, huh?

Edited 2024-05-04 21:12 (UTC)

[ Ange could say something about the entertainment district. It's why they're out here in the first place, after all - Ange still feeling the need to explore this place more in case there's some sort of clue anywhere around here that she's been overlooking, and figuring that having a second pair of eyes coming along with her can't hurt. And Claude has enough upsides to him to be the perfect second set of eyes. For one, he comes from a very different world than her own, so he's likely to notice very different things than she does. Not to mention that she trusts him to be intelligent about this sort of thing, and, maybe most importantly of all, she can tolerate Claude pretty well. It's rare for him to ever truly annoy her.

And yet there's something today. Even if Ange doesn't fully know what it is, she can at least tell there's something off about Claude.

She's been keeping it to herself thus far, wondering if maybe she's reading too much into it or he's just in a bad mood, but it's been going on for long enough already that she can't help but turn towards him with her hands on her hips, addressing his oddity rather than anything odd around them. ]

You know, what is up with you today, Claude? Is there something going around town that I don't know of?

Huh?

[ He knows that he's not at his best. But he didn't think it was that noticeable. Sure, he's less full of jokes and smiles than usual, but Ange has seen him plenty serious, and this is a serious expedition, isn't it? He grits his teeth. He's been doing that more and more lately; he almost fears he will wear his molars down entirely. His lips curl back into a smile, but it looks forced, pained: ] No, nothing's wr--

[ It's as though a spirit has taken hold of his tongue. He drags his fingers through his hair, letting out a frustrated groan. ]

Sorry. It's this damn sentencing! I don't know what they want from me. [ He shakes his head. ] Don't let it get in the way of what we're here to do. It'll pass. [ A mutter: ] It'd better.

.. you look worse than almost any other time I've seen you, and you expect me to ignore that?

[ She points it out with the same dry tone as ever, but it's a sign of something more. After all, Ange saying that she can't just ignore that implies that it's hard for her to not fuss over it when he seems this off, or like he's dealing with something big.

Not that she's going to word it any more explicitly than that. Instead she just frowns when she looks at him, especially in the light of what he just said. It's not even the first time she's dealing with someone who's in the middle of that stupid sentencing. ]

What did they do to you? [ Ange folds her arms across her chest, her gaze unrelenting. ]

They've pissed me off, is what they did.

[ It's true -- but a half-truth, he knows, the sort of half-truth he can still get away with saying. He is angry about it. How could he not be? But there are more complicated emotions lurking under that aggravation, things he doesn't care to look in the eye. He rubs at the back of his neck and looks away, scowling, unwilling to meet Ange's prying eyes.

A little petulantly: ] And I don't think I look that bad.

[ He does, eventually, relent. ] ...they sentenced me to find my true self, whatever that's supposed to mean. And evidently they decided my true self is unbearably cranky, which I don't think is at all true, but there you have it.

[ Well, that does at least give her some answers. When he initially answers, Ange kind of wonders if he's just still going to try and dodge the question, but it seems like the truth comes to light in the end there all the same.

It makes her look a little less judgemental. A little bit less side-eye going on here. After all-- ]

Well, of course you'd be cranky if they forced something on you.

[ That seems so objectively true to her that Ange says it so easily, seemingly not even considering blaming the mood on Claude himself. God knows she'd be bitching at everyone in this place if she was in his shoes right now. ]

It would explain why you look so weird every time it looks like you're going to smile right now. Maybe the 'true self' thing means that you can't smile if you're actually mad.

What? Gods be damned, is that what's going on?

[ If anything, Claude looks even more aggravated. He rarely curses too, but he'll allow himself the luxury right now, now that it seems to be only his head that's being toyed with. It explains a lot, though. He hasn't been able to successfully smile for days.

His frown deepens. That makes no sense, he thinks. He hasn't been upset this entire time. Surely they should have allowed him a smile every now and then, to greet a customer, to nod at a friend. Surely that's not lying. It's just putting your best foot forward. He crosses his arms. ]

I hate this, [ he declares. ] It's not lying to be polite. Do they really think we should go stomping around every time we're a little annoyed?

I don't think there's any real logic to it. [ She points out.

Sure, there ought to be, if this is really intended to teach Claude something. But Ange still feels like the entire crimes and punishments theme going on here in this place is just a cover up for something else, so of course she's not going to see this sentencing as something that's actually meant to be serious. There's probably no logic to it. They just thought it was fun to mess with Claude this way.

And it's clearly working, since he's getting more annoyed. (Ange doesn't blame him. She'd be the same way in his shoes, she figures.) ]

I mean, why would they do that to you of all people? [ Sure, she did see that thing about him lying back in that maze a while ago. But seeing that doesn't count as much to her as personal experience does, and that experience says-- ] You've always been open with me, as far as I can tell. Sure, you may have hidden some stuff from me, for all I know, but who doesn't do that?

[ Says Ange.. notorious hider of absolutely everything about herself from anyone.. Ssh..

She does speak about all this very plainly though. As if she isn't even consciously intending on complimenting him, but more just speaking aloud what she sees as objective truth. ]

I don't think you've lied to me enough for them to portray you as some sort of weird notorious liar.

[ Claude opens his mouth - to lie again, to say that he was unfairly maligned - but the words wither away and die as soon as they reach his tongue. Ange is right. They factually will not let him lie, whether that's through his expressions or his words, both things that he's wielded his entire life as a shield against the rest of the world. His mouth twists as he shoves his hands in his pockets, staring out at the city before them, the gaudy lights, the crowds in bars, a world so unlike his own that he feels strangely outside of his own body, out of control.

It looks as though he wants to say something, but can't. Eventually, he says: ] You've given me no reason to lie to you.

[ That's the truth of it. Claude may be a liar, but he's not a habitual liar for fun. It's always for a reason. And here, in Aldrip, he is possibly freer to be himself than he's ever been in his life -- but that prospect remains as terrifying as it ever was. ]

I appreciate the vote of confidence. But I'll admit their sentencing isn't entirely false. I am a liar, when I need to be. [ He pauses, as though testing out his next sentence, seeing if this, too, will be deemed a lie. ] Which is often, back home. It's the only way to get things done. I'm just not certain what they expect me to do about it here.

[ His lip curls with something wry as he glances back at her. ]

They want me to do something to show my true self, whatever the hell that means.

[ True self? Who even knows what their true self is? He'd rather they just give him twenty lashes and be done with it. ]

[ .. there's a lot she could say to those words, isn't there.

For example, the fact that plenty of people have lied to her in the past. Ange doesn't think she's the sort of person that makes other people feel like they can just be honest about her, if that past experience is anything to go by. Then again, like Claude says, he mostly lies to get things done. And what could he even get done in this place by lying to her? Not a particular amount.

Does it make him a a bad person? A good person? Ange isn't sure, honestly. As far as she can see, Claude is just Claude, without her having any particular moral opinion about the guy.

Maybe it's why she doesn't mention a thing about that first part. Instead she stays quiet until he gets to that last part, and it's only then that she pipes up with: ]

Well, what do you think your true self is?

[ That's the easiest way to deal with this, right? Ange can't imagine Claude likes living with this weird restriction, so they might as well see if they can speedrun this entire ordeal so the other is done with it ASAP.

Granted, it's only a moment later that she realises he's forced to be honest with her. It's easy to forget, despite the strange way Claude has been acting today. So after a brief pause, the girl adds: ]

You really don't have to get into any embarrassing details. [ Just saying!! In case that keeps Claude's current curse, or punishment, or whatever you want to call it from spiralling into a talk neither of them want to have. It's just that Ange is trying to guide him along to whatever right answer the beings in charge here have in mind, so they can move on from it altogether. ]

Don't be silly. I don't get embarrassed.

[ A look of surprise crosses Claude's face, and he finally smiles long enough to crow, ] Hah! I really don't! That's the truth!

[ It's not the whole truth. But it's close enough that he was allowed to say it. It's true enough that he's not the sort to get easily embarrassed, that he can be caught with his finger in several pies and in states of disarray and dishevelment, and feels nary a twinge, brash enough and bold enough to simply charge where he wishes to go. That, and it's a good distraction from the very good, and very difficult question Ange is asking him. It feels like the stupidest possible way of soul searching: to be flagrantly forced into a state of self-observation with the sole purpose of wriggling out of his sentencing. ]

But to be honest, Ange -- I couldn't tell you the answer to that question. I'm just... [ His mouth bunches up to one side as he tries to figure out how to put it. ] A guy.

[ That's what it comes down to. He's a Duke and a Prince and a Tactician and a Leader, but when it comes down to it? He's a person like any other, made special only by virtue of his birth. There is no true self he thinks has been repressed, lying in wait to get out. He's spent his life in pursuit of his dreams to the exclusion of exploring himself in any capaicty, leaving him as a tool of his own ambitions.

There is no true self, he thinks, because there's nothing more there. ]

I mean, how would you answer that question for yourself?

[ Flatly: ]

Because some of us do get embarrassed, I can't answer that question without being in the presence of a lawyer.

[ .. that joke is probably lost on Claude, Ange realises only right after making it, but.. it's fine. She can privately appreciate how good of a joke that was. Besides, it's just accurate. Ange knows she can't answer this sort of thing because it makes her horribly embarrassed.

The fact that Claude apparently truly doesn't get embarrassed like that feels unfair. How are some people capable of that when Ange feels embarrassed at the smallest and dumbest of things, especially in social situations? Couldn't life give her one good thing and at least let her have that? ]

But I sure would be able to say more about me than just me being 'some girl.' Do you really have that little self-perception, Claude?

[ It doesn't.. fully sound like an insult..? It's definitely a little direct, but that just fits the usual Ange norms, always going right for the heart of the matter..

Especially when she can't imagine any reason to not be able to say more about yourself that isn't just being too embarrassed to talk about it. It's hard to put herself in the mindset of someone so different from her. ]

What do you see when you look in the mirror? Or is that also just 'a guy'?

[ Yeah, okay, this is dumb. Soul-searching is dumb! But if he's being forced into it, then he might as well rush it and get through on the other side before it gets even dumber and more annoying, Ange thinks. It's what she'd do. ]

That's getting into some philosophical weeds, don't you think? There's certain more about me, no doubt about that, but what makes me exceptional is due to the nature of my birth, not to some inherent... [ He grasps for the word. ] Difference between me and the next guy.

[ He believes that, truly. It's not that he has a failure of self-esteem. Quite the opposite; he knows he's quick and clever, that he's handsome and charming, that he's a man of ambition, a man of principle. But none of those feel inherent to him. They're simply tools to an end, just like he himself is a tool to an end. It's not that he doesn't think of himself as a person, but his own personhood is simply... irrelevant, in the grand scheme of things. He's never related to those who push to wed for love and not status, to those who chomp at the bit for freedom, to those who wish to shed the shackles of their birth to express themselves in art or dance or whatever silly things nobles get up to.

He's a Duke. He's a Prince. And he'll do his damn job. ]

I think that's an abundance of self-preservation, not a lack, [ he corrects her. ] I don't know what else I would see in the mirror beyond what I know to be objectively true. I see a leader, Ange, and what others see when they see me. That's my job. I really don't see how anything else is even relevant, or why they think it ought to be relevant.

[ Which is to say: yes. Yes, he truly has that little self-perception. ]

.. god, Claude.

[ Ange sounds so exasperated. Sorry, Claude, she doesn't mean to get angry with you or anything-- and it's not even fully that. It's just that she's kind of wondering if he can't hear what he's sounding like right now. Part of her wonders if she should record his words with her tablet and play them back at him and then see if he notices.

Because she'll take this sort of thing from other people. They're idiots. It makes sense. Claude is way smarter than that from Ange's point of view though, which makes it all the more exasperating that he doesn't get it.

Which means she just has to be direct about it. Thankfully that's something she's very good at. ]

Now I get why they assigned you that. You really have no conception of yourself. [ Dryly pointing out: ] That's something most people do have, you know? Most people don't let other people's opinions decide who they are. If I did that, I'd probably have a big problem.

[ Considering Ange has never heard even a single positive opinion about herself before ending up in this place.. ]

You misunderstand me, Ange. If I dictated myself by others' opinions of me, I'd be quite the beast, [ Claude says, and with that, he's finally able to smile again, sharp and shark-toothed. He's seldom heard good things about himself from those whose opinions truly matter, given honestly instead of meant to curry favour. He is unpopular among all other leaders of the Alliance, it seems, disgruntled that this young man has taken over his poor old Grandpa's legacy, and even more unpopular at home. ] I mean I'm... cognizant of how others see me, and how to use that, or to fight against it if I'm able.

[ No matter what he thinks of it, it's still the metric by which he navigates the world. He hasn't been able to shed it here, not even when it doesn't matter. It's something he's spent many a night pondering, especially after spending time with those who are frank about their own sordid pasts, whether they be in the midst of redemption, proud of their old secrets, or simply admitting to that which has shaped them. He can hear all of Ange's exasperation, of course, and he can see where it's coming from. Almost. But what good is his true self? When will he even use that guy? ]

I suppose my true self is simply that I'm furthering my own goals. I have my own ambitions. Everything else is in service to that.

[ Claude is so strange. It's rare for Ange to have an experience where she looks at another person and sees things that feel deeply relatable, and then some other things that feel wildly unrelatable all at the same time. Usually she just lives within the realm of the latter while learning more about people, and in a few rare cases it's more of the former.

Both of those things coming in equal measures like this feels weirder. And even more when it comes to this particular topic. It feels like one of the more relatable ones, in a sense, but it's like Claude is somehow way less self-aware about it than she is.

Which is weird. How can a guy be this smart, yet this dumb? Is it because he's a man? ]

Your true self can't be an action. [ She points out.

Like, sure, it's kind of like that for Ange too, but at least she actively acknowledges she already threw her life away a long time ago. That she's living on borrowed time until she fulfils her last mission. That's different. ]

Besides, there's no way that covers everything. Is talking to me fulfilling some sort of weird ambition you've got?

On the contrary, aren't the actions we take most revealing of our true selves? Talk is cheap.

[ Lucky for Ange who is, despite Claude's greatest efforts, trying to help him -- trapped in a philosophical conversation with a politician, the sort of fate one would only wish on their worst enemies. Worse yet is that cursed with honesty as he is, Claude truly believes it. ]

And from a certain perspective, being here is fulfilling that ambition! We're out here to explore the city, something we need to do as a means of figuring this place out well enough to escape, which I've got to do to get back home and finish what needs to be done. So, you know.

[ But his expression softens, just a little. ]

I'd be talking with you anyway. But not everything we do is a reflection of ourselves. Unless my true self is enjoying someone else's company? [ He scratches at his chin. ] It may not cover everything, Ange. But it covers most things.

[ Claude may not seem like the sort who's thrown away his life in the same way that Ange has -- but that's another way in which they're wretchedly similar. It is easy when they're born into families like theirs, to stop seeing themselves as people. After all, nobody else does. ]

[ It would be one thing if she was at least trapped in a conversation with a self-aware politician.

Then again, those words might just be a contradiction in and of itself, huh. ]

Claude..

[ It's a little hard to tell the exact emotion in those words. There's something a touch frustrated, an 'are you kidding me right now' sort of expression, even though she can tell that he's being honest, rather than being obtuse on purpose to annoy her. But there's also something a little softer underneath it. Something more worried.

Because she does recognize this. Not even necessarily in a good way, though she feels like Claude's lack of self-awareness about it might mean it's a better case of it than her own.

.. relatively speaking. Which might not be saying much, actually, given how bad Ange's own case is.

But it means she also figures one thing she can ask here. Because she knows her own answer to it. But she also knows that it's bad - yet wrapped up in her sense of self.

Maybe Claude's answer, too, is wrapped up in his own. ]

What is left then, once you fulfil every single ambition you have? [ ... ] Who would you be if you had nothing left to do?

[ Usually, Claude finds that he can navigate most conversations pretty easily. They rarely have himself at the centre of them. Rather, when they do, it's all about ulterior motivations, plays for power, sowing seeds of doubt and intrigue, the sort of thing that he knows how to field. Questions of loyalty, questions of trustworthiness, accusations of pride and greed. Very rarely do people ask him these sorts of probing questions like this, even his closest and fondest allies, content to roll their eyes at his chipper grins, his silly shenanigans, thoroughly bamboozled in every way Claude intends for them to be.

This is different, being that Ange is ultimately asking him for no ulterior motivation than ostensibly giving a shit about him. He's a little startled by how uncomfortable he finds it to be, even as he scrutinizes the emotions behind her words, the way she seems a little put-off by something he considers to be common sense. ]

Even as a hypothetical, that's impossible, [ he says, shaking his head. ] My ambitions will never be fulfilled. I'd count myself lucky if I could see the half of them before I died. But even with two, three, four lifetimes, I don't believe I'd ever see them through.

[ His ambitions are too lofty. He knows that. But he knows, too, that he's insatiable. It will never be enough. He'll always want more change, more advancement, stronger bonds, better conditions, more, more, more.]

That's why everything I am has to be put towards them now, while I'm still above ground. It's not... [ He rubs at his forehead. ] It's not a bad thing, when you're in the position that I am. This is what people like me are supposed to be doing.

[ And what would he do without it? Sleep, probably. Sleep, for a very long time. Eat three square meals a day without looking over his shoulder. And die young, out of sheer boredom. It's a sorry thought. ]

[ For a moment she just stares at him. Then she speaks-- ]

You're so good at talking. You could probably convince anyone of anything. Even yourself.

[ Is that a bad thing? Not necessarily. If anything, Ange feels like it's an ability that must have helped Claude many times in his life, especially if he's striving for so much. Not that Claude doesn't have other talents, but having a silver tongue certainly helps. Ange could know, considering she has the opposite of charisma, never able to make even a single person listen to her. It makes it really hard to get anything at all done that actually involves other people.

She exhales, her shoulders dropping a little as she seems to deflate slightly, a kind of near-fight leaving her. ]

It's not really only a bad thing. I get it. Sometimes stuff has to get done. [ And then you don't have time to stop and think about.. you know, personal happiness? A concept of self? That's a luxury for people whose lives don't involve a constant fight. ] But I can also see why our generous overlords have decided to drop this little task in your lap in particular.

[ Not that she thinks they want better for Claude. She does, but those beings? No way. Ange dislikes them too much to believe that.

But they sure do like confronting them with stuff, that's for sure. ]

You wouldn't see the problem yourself, even if you'd be looking into a mirror.

Being able to convince anyone of anything is what I'm betting on, in the long-run. I'm hoping to change people's minds through speech and policy, not through bloody war.

[ It's not true, is the thing. It's not enough. He runs into this problem time and time again, silver tongue, thick lashes, coy flattery and sweet words be damned. Nobody in Almyra will listen to a Fodlani runt, nobody in Leicester will listen to the Riegan upstart, and as always, he's stuck, stuck, stuck.

He can tell that Ange is frustrated with him. Sad for him, for some reason. But try as he much, he can't figure out why. What's the problem with being focused on his goals, truly? A leader shouldn't be ruled by emotion, for personal gain, for personal grudges, not in the way Edelgard is in fighting this horrible war of hers, the way Dimitri was before he fell off the deep end and then off the face of the map. As far as Claude's concerned, he's doing the right thing. He has to be doing the right thing.

He rubs at his forehead. ] They give us tasks to taunt us, feels like, [ he says, sighing. He still feels as though he needs to convince Ange that what he's saying is right, that it's fine, that he's fine, but it seems like it's precisely that that has her put-off. He sighs. ]

My goals are who I am. Anything less would end in my shirking my duties, and more people than me would pay for that. I mean, for god's sake, I'm a prince, I have two countries to--

[ It's the fucking honesty curse, isn't it? He meant to say leader, he meant to say that he has goals for Leicester, and to that end, his eyes widen, a hand is slapped quickly over his mouth. Goddamn it. ]

[ If Claude had just said he's a prince, Ange likely wouldn't even have batted an eye over it. Considering that people are all sorts of things in this place, prince doesn't even really strike that high up on the weirdness scale of things that people can be in this place. It might be a little bit surprising in the sense that Claude isn't exactly Ange's idea of a prince - sure, she.. guesses he's objectively handsome, maybe? She's never been goods at determining those things, but he seems way more willing to work hard than any prince she's ever heard about - but just as a fact of life? It's pretty normal.

No, what gets her is the fact that he clearly did not mean to say that. It's only when he stops himself and tries to cover up his mouth that the girl raises an eyebrow. ]

.. seriously, Claude? That's your big secret? [ At least she sounds a little less displeased now. Instead she sounds more unimpressed, which is.. a step up? It's a little bit closer to Ange's default way of talking, anyway. ] Is it that bad if people here know you're a prince? I really don't care whether or not you are one, you know.

Ah -- bupbupbupbup, keep your voice down!

[ Claude says, reaching out as though miming slapping his palm over Ange's mouth. He's not suicidal enough to actually do it (she'd get awfully mad at him, and he doesn't care to be the target of her ire), but his meaning is the same, skin gone pale and jaw clenched, thick brows jumping upwards with alarm.

He glances to the side, uttering an oath underneath his breath. ] Damn it all.

[ He hadn't meant to say that. This is one secret that he'd intended to take to his grave, or at least take home with him once he's accomplished everything he can. He knows he can trust Ange. He knows, too, this probably counts as fulfilling his sentence, sharing his true self, but if that's the case, he would have by and large preferred to take another punishment. He rubs at his forehead. ]

It's not people here that I'm worried about. But if this gets out back home, I'm a dead man. It's just better to keep it quiet, all right?

[ It's kind of weird. She usually never sees Claude this worked up over something. And sure, some people might say this doesn't really seem worked up just yet-- but if she's going by what she usually sees from Claude? This is definitely worked up. It's so obvious this isn't something he wanted to tell anyone, even though it seems like such a minuscule and unimportant detail about him to Ange. ]

Yeah, because of course I was planning on coming along with you to your world when all of this is over, just so I can make sure to tell everyone you're a you-know-what.

[ It's a little dry, and she is kind of teasing him with how unimportant this seems to her, but.. it's not like Ange is entirely unfeeling. It shows in the little things. The way she is actually not repeating the word when he seems so worked up about its very mention, and the way she doesn't press the light teasing any further.

If anything, Ange seems to grow a touch more serious as she asks: ]

Why is it such a problem? I mean-- You already act like a politician half of the time. [ And Claude is kind of medieval-y, right?

Back in the time when politicians and royalty were still practically the same thing, rather than the latter being reduced to something more symbolic. It makes the entire thing even more confusing to Ange. ]

Are you undercover or something?

[ Sorry, Claude.

But Ange is just the right combination of naturally nosy and interested enough in Claude and his wellbeing enough that she can't help but ask these things. At least it might help him complete his sentencing.. ]

If you really don't want to answer, just say that. I'm just saying that so you don't feel like I'm trying to force you to talk while you're stuck being honest.

There are people from home here, [ Claude counters, his own alarm making him sharp, harsh, but there's a true undercurrent of fear lacing his words. He does not believe he's truly in any danger, not here and not now -- but he knows how the world works. He knows how it works for him. It will take only a single slip-up for all to fall to ruin, to lose control over Leicester and thus lose the war to the Empire's forces, to then return to Almyra a wretched failure and be rightfully denied the throne, to sit by and be forced to watch as Shahid inevitably wreaks havoc over the border in the way he's always sworn to. They had him followed all the way to the Monastery. Perhaps he is not watched here in Aldrip, but the life of constant surveillance is the only one he's ever known. ] Someone who is allied with the woman who leads the opposing army. I --

[ He rubs at his forehead, taking a deep breath. He's not even this harried when they're fighting against some strange eldritch beast, he knows. This is a weakness he doesn't much like to show and he forces himself to be calm, shoulders slowly and intentionally relaxing, unclenching his jaw.

It's fine. It's just Ange. He trusts her. She will not judge him, not for this. The certainty with which he feels that feels strange, unfamiliar, and almost makes him second-guess that base instinct, but he smothers the feeling, knowing that it's his own worry and not her character that sends him down that path. He softens. ]

...I don't mind telling you. But not out in the open like this.

FOR ANGE

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