Re: Dietre A./Hugh C.: On the patio
Dietre had only been able to wear his mask for a very short while. His expression melted into a worried, kicked puppy sort of look. Back in the day, before Repose, before making friends, Dietre had been a master of stoic distance. It was the only way to avoid open contempt from his father. Somehow along the way he’d lost the ability to keep his emotions from showing and he hadn’t a clue how to get it back. He had to assume it was because he was on less drugs now. There was no need for so many antipsychotics if he wasn’t actually hallucinating.
He listened to Hugh, quiet and serious. He let himself be reassured and the jittery pace of his heart slowed to something more normal. What choice did he have other than to trust Hugh? If he said he’d protect their friendship, if he said he didn’t want to lose what they had, then Dietre had to believe it. The alternative was just pain. Maybe this was pain too, future pain, but for now he’d accept what was in front of him.
“Okay,” he agreed, still speaking softly. “..It’ll be our own thing.” What it would become, he didn’t know yet. But at least now they weren’t both in the dark?
Even though they didn’t have to sit close because they were using airpods, Dietre leaned nearer to Hugh as he listened. He didn’t know enough about Taylor Swift to understand why liking her should be a secret, but Hugh’s furtive behavior coaxed an uncertain smile out of Dietre.
“Why is this a guilty pleasure?” He asked when it was over. There was nothing jarringly awful about the song. It was simple and sweet, and Dietre could only detect real instruments and singing, no computer nonsense. “I think it's nice.”
Coming out of his shell again he made a request. “...Could you find Claire de Lune next? It is only fitting to listen to it while the moon is out.”