[His voice is so small. He burrows in closer, tucks his knees up underneath him. He feels so sad, but in a distant, aching way. And there's a bloom of sweetness in his chest, too, that after a moment he identifies as "belonging".]
So maybe I . . . was more like you? Like a hero . . . or at least trying to be one?
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[His voice is so small. He burrows in closer, tucks his knees up underneath him. He feels so sad, but in a distant, aching way. And there's a bloom of sweetness in his chest, too, that after a moment he identifies as "belonging".]
So maybe I . . . was more like you? Like a hero . . . or at least trying to be one?