[His smile fades as Dante's words draw his attention back to them. Even now he struggles to ignore a direct plea, if just because of how long as he's taken them all into account, silently promising them salvation even when he could offer nothing in the meantime.
When he speaks, it's to address what he can only assume is the reason Dante is trying to stop him.]
What I've taken from you—I don't know what will happen to it.
[It's said frankly; he hasn't had the time or chance to test, as would have been his instinct. Besides, all of that would mean planning for the future, for the long term.]
Perhaps it will return to you in time. Or perhaps you'll come up with a kinder way of thinking about yourself.
[There's no hope in the mention of either of the possibilities. They're simply two of who knows how many. Even so—he doesn't wish further pain upon them, so he won't speak it into existence.]
no subject
When he speaks, it's to address what he can only assume is the reason Dante is trying to stop him.]
What I've taken from you—I don't know what will happen to it.
[It's said frankly; he hasn't had the time or chance to test, as would have been his instinct. Besides, all of that would mean planning for the future, for the long term.]
Perhaps it will return to you in time. Or perhaps you'll come up with a kinder way of thinking about yourself.
[There's no hope in the mention of either of the possibilities. They're simply two of who knows how many. Even so—he doesn't wish further pain upon them, so he won't speak it into existence.]