"Fine," Bene mutters, clearly ready for this conversation to be over. He draws his knees up to his chest, resting his chin atop them and thinking it over, still with an air of quiet sulking.
"It is if you're being a shit." He rolls back over facing away. "I don't really care what you think. If it gets you to training and stops you from dying, then sure, I'll be an asshole."
Eyeing Edgard even after he's turned around, Bene watches him for a little bit, then continues getting ready for bed, slipping off his shoes and swapping his breeches for comfier pants (with his shirt long enough to preserve his modesty, of course).
Then he lies back again, this time with a little involuntary whimper, and blows out the candle on his bedside table. Well, goodnight then.
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"It's none of your business anyway, what I do."
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Benedict just really doesn't get it.
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"You care if I die?"
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"Yes."
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"Don't want people who don't deserve it to die and you don't. Seen that enough."
It's truly that simple to Edgard.
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"How do you know?" he asks, "that I don't."
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"I don't know! Best I can tell you don't and you haven't given me any reason to think otherwise."
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Eyeing Edgard even after he's turned around, Bene watches him for a little bit, then continues getting ready for bed, slipping off his shoes and swapping his breeches for comfier pants (with his shirt long enough to preserve his modesty, of course).
Then he lies back again, this time with a little involuntary whimper, and blows out the candle on his bedside table. Well, goodnight then.