Re: [Brandon Shipping]
Thomas snapped the lighter shut with a fake-metallic click that belonged on streetcorners and behind bars. It was not a Thomas kind of sound; if Thomas had a sound, it would be a night breeze whisper, or maybe just a lot of cold silence. Thomas found potential in silence, and he found it reassuring when he could hear the movements of everyone and everything around him. He picked up the candle, which was a plain white pillar and stood it in the center of his desk where he could keep an eye on the flame. It was steady and, so far, unremarkable. Thomas took his hands off of it and leaned back in his chair. He had a strange urge to pose like some of his business colleagues, hands across his stomach, eyes narrowed, just to prove that he had a handle on this situation. He prevented himself, because he didn't have a clue how to handle the situation, and there was no point in pretending. Maturity, baby steps.
Thomas took in a breath. It was a soundless, but very visible, preparation. "I do care about your well-being. I... was showing it. You wanted to accompany me, I tried to keep you alive long enough to do it. You wanted to be in school, I tried to make it possible. You wanted to stay with Wren--" Thomas just couldn't bring himself to approve, but he forced himself to keep going, "I did not object. I didn't know what was hard for you, but I trusted your judgment.."