[He expects anger; perhaps it's unsurprising that he receives it.
(He gnashes down disappointment. There is one thing that's defined Henry Creel ever since he was young, something which still applies to this day: that lingering desire for connection, his metaphorical tendrils always extending and seeing what others have to offer. Knowing what he drags back will always be lacking, but there is a fragment hope that still lingers in him, the one that he cannot quash, the youngest part of him that just won't die.
The notion of friendship with Steve has all been but rejected. Shattered to pieces thanks to a glimpse into the far-flung future, and maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it's just easier this way, to be met with anger and denouncement. Can he blame him? He'd probably feel exactly the same way. That's just how it is now -- what was slowly built in the last couple of years is simply severed.)
It still takes longer than necessary for him to reply.]
i'm sure they will be Fine (no)
(He gnashes down disappointment. There is one thing that's defined Henry Creel ever since he was young, something which still applies to this day: that lingering desire for connection, his metaphorical tendrils always extending and seeing what others have to offer. Knowing what he drags back will always be lacking, but there is a fragment hope that still lingers in him, the one that he cannot quash, the youngest part of him that just won't die.
The notion of friendship with Steve has all been but rejected. Shattered to pieces thanks to a glimpse into the far-flung future, and maybe it was inevitable. Maybe it's just easier this way, to be met with anger and denouncement. Can he blame him? He'd probably feel exactly the same way. That's just how it is now -- what was slowly built in the last couple of years is simply severed.)
It still takes longer than necessary for him to reply.]
Just like that?