[There is a long moment of silence. Fugo sits, as still as a statue and with little expression on his face, hands once again neatly folded in his lap. He can't move. Can't speak. He has to be as still as possible, to keep the worst of the poison spilling out.]
I am not-- pleasant. [Unpleasant-- what a joke. He's caustic, he's pessimistic, he's emotionally unstable. Even on his good days, his thoughts never really stop. What sort of person has to regularly force themselves to eat? And all of that before his regular nightmares and occasional night terrors.] I don't like the idea of someone having that much insight into me.
no subject
I am not-- pleasant. [Unpleasant-- what a joke. He's caustic, he's pessimistic, he's emotionally unstable. Even on his good days, his thoughts never really stop. What sort of person has to regularly force themselves to eat? And all of that before his regular nightmares and occasional night terrors.] I don't like the idea of someone having that much insight into me.