[He doesn't feel he needs to explain it any further than that— certainly she's experienced something similar, whether it was here or elsewhere. There's plenty of reasoning to be done that amounts to the same thing, of course— he can't imagine any reason he would have stolen such a thing— but all of that aside, he trusts his instincts on this matter. He doesn't trust easily, but he does trust his intuition.
His gaze lingers on the necklace for a few moments, and though he is often quite deft at veiling his emotions, he struggles to do so now. He shifts in his seat, discomfort plain on his face as he lightly drums his fingers against the table, his lips pulling into a frown.
He really should give it back to her, and yet despite having no clear memories of how it came to be in his possession, he feels it would be a loss. That, in itself, is reason for discomfort.]
Don't you want it back?
[He lifts his gaze to study her face once more without reaching for the necklace. How much more does he tell her?]
Whether these discoveries are the truth or somehow fabricated, I'm inclined to believe that we knew each other quite well— or someone would like us to think so.
[It's getting quite difficult to convince himself that it's the latter, however.]
no subject
[He doesn't feel he needs to explain it any further than that— certainly she's experienced something similar, whether it was here or elsewhere. There's plenty of reasoning to be done that amounts to the same thing, of course— he can't imagine any reason he would have stolen such a thing— but all of that aside, he trusts his instincts on this matter. He doesn't trust easily, but he does trust his intuition.
His gaze lingers on the necklace for a few moments, and though he is often quite deft at veiling his emotions, he struggles to do so now. He shifts in his seat, discomfort plain on his face as he lightly drums his fingers against the table, his lips pulling into a frown.
He really should give it back to her, and yet despite having no clear memories of how it came to be in his possession, he feels it would be a loss. That, in itself, is reason for discomfort.]
Don't you want it back?
[He lifts his gaze to study her face once more without reaching for the necklace. How much more does he tell her?]
Whether these discoveries are the truth or somehow fabricated, I'm inclined to believe that we knew each other quite well— or someone would like us to think so.
[It's getting quite difficult to convince himself that it's the latter, however.]