"I don't know how." This is not the confession of a man who is sheepishly
trying and fumbling along. This is the confession of someone who doesn't
speak a language and can't even form the vowels anymore.
"But if this helps I'll do it. I don't want to fit with people. I'm not
like them at home. Don't want to be. Maybe it's how I keep waiting for my
people, my family, that's never coming back. But here...I can be more for
Eggsy. For Furiosa." A pause, an awkward hum that means to include Rey, too.
She glances over at him to see if she's guessed right about that hum and once she's sure she has, her hand moves to touch his. It's nothing that last more than a second, just a brush of her fingers over the back of his hand that says she knows, she feels the same, and that that's okay.
"What made you want to be with Eggsy if you don't want to fit with people?"
"First time he met me I was scavenging. He ran movie nights, helped people
relax. Saw me and gave me something he'd hidden for himself. His favorite.
Just gave it to me, didn't know me."
He still had the wrapper, actually and he shows it to her: a yellow peanut
M&M's wrapper that he's reinforced by laminating it. It holds odds and ends
for him now that the candy is long gone.
"Not a lot of people like him. And they don't talk to me, most of those
people. He did."
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no subject
"I don't know how." This is not the confession of a man who is sheepishly trying and fumbling along. This is the confession of someone who doesn't speak a language and can't even form the vowels anymore.
"But if this helps I'll do it. I don't want to fit with people. I'm not like them at home. Don't want to be. Maybe it's how I keep waiting for my people, my family, that's never coming back. But here...I can be more for Eggsy. For Furiosa." A pause, an awkward hum that means to include Rey, too.
no subject
"What made you want to be with Eggsy if you don't want to fit with people?"
no subject
"First time he met me I was scavenging. He ran movie nights, helped people relax. Saw me and gave me something he'd hidden for himself. His favorite. Just gave it to me, didn't know me."
He still had the wrapper, actually and he shows it to her: a yellow peanut M&M's wrapper that he's reinforced by laminating it. It holds odds and ends for him now that the candy is long gone.
"Not a lot of people like him. And they don't talk to me, most of those people. He did."