Again, what? He found himself thinking, as his head tilted ever so slightly to the left. He avoided it for his sake. Did that mean he understood he had simply being pretending all them years? Repressing the emotions and the feelings for his own safety? No, that couldn't be right.
But then Fletcher was speaking of hope. That was a word he did not associate with Fletcher's normal vocabulary. Tiberius himself lived on the concept of hope. For years, it had been hope that he'd not be discovered by his father for his true feelings. For his feelings to go away. Hope that Fletcher would still want him. But he did not know Fletcher to hold any respect in the word hope.
Tiberius had sat fully up and his eyes lingered on Fletcher's fingers for the briefest of moments, as his heart rate began to increase. "I wouldn't think you are silly, Fletcher," he spoke, feeling as if he needed to reassure the man of this. He was oh so afraid of emotions. Tiberius was not unaware of this fact. He was in fact so confused by what was occurring in this moment because Fletcher rarely spoke in such a way.
By the time Fletcher had reached the mention of his mother, Tiberius understood. To an extent. He understood what Fletcher was saying, but he did not understand what had changed. "Why are you telling this to me?" He asked, wondering if he had done something to bring on the confession. Did it matter?
He sucked in a breath, letting his gaze drop down. "Do you realize how I feel?" He then asked, because that was the more important matter. Fletcher admitting he had feelings for him meant nothing if his feelings were not returned, other then a sense of self awareness. Thankfully for Fletcher, he would not have to worry. He was just curious as to whether or not Fletcher was aware of this. He tilted his head, looking at the man.