[He stares, fixedly, at the floor, for a moment longer--aware of her standing there and yet not aware. She's there but she's elsewhere--or, more likely, he is a little elsewhere. It's easy to feel detached, or it should be. It would be better than this idiotic helplessness.
The silence is very heavy. His shoulder are hunched, so hard it sort of hurts, and he sets his teeth against nothing, still staring.]
Girls, where you're from. They don't get to be angry. Right?
[He remembers. Just a little bit, he remembers, from the few things he saw out of her head, from the things that Alayne told him before. This Alayne but not.]
You have to be happy, and quiet. But you have to have felt-- this.
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The silence is very heavy. His shoulder are hunched, so hard it sort of hurts, and he sets his teeth against nothing, still staring.]
Girls, where you're from. They don't get to be angry. Right?
[He remembers. Just a little bit, he remembers, from the few things he saw out of her head, from the things that Alayne told him before. This Alayne but not.]
You have to be happy, and quiet. But you have to have felt-- this.