[Asch watches her for a moment, cautious, surprised, then looks away. That... is a lot to take in. And a lot that, in his memory, happened a long time ago now. It's been years since he was in Auldrant, years since that awful conversation she'd had to witness between he and Luke in Grand Chokmah. For a long time after his initial arrival here, after he'd died - or nearly died, close enough for it to count - he'd thought back to the snappish words of that day and felt regret. There were a lot of reasons for him to regret the paths he'd chosen in his life, and a lot of time to do so.
He'd been wrong. But she'd been wrong, too, and maybe a part of him had resented her for it. Her continual insistence that he was still "Luke", that she knew him, that he hadn't changed- it had hurt, hearing that. As if the seven years he'd gone through, all that he'd suffered, meant nothing to her. That all she wanted from him was the childish promise of a boy who would be her king. He'd hated that, hearing her say that, and it had driven a wedge between them, one he hadn't really known how to deal with.
They can never go back to that. He's changed too much, and he knows that she's changed, too. Their lives have gone in separate directions, and they both need to learn to live with that.
She understands that, now. He can see it. In her voice, in her words... in that sad, longing smile. She knows, and... she's waiting for an answer.
He looks back in her once more, his gaze focused, intense, though not critical or judgmental, more... uncertain. He's no good at this anymore- he'd been much better with words, polite behaviour, the treatment of a princess, as a child. Years in Daath had changed all the social grace he'd earned in Fabre Manor, like a diamond reversing itself into an unpolished stone. But he'll try. For her, he'll try, because that honest confession deserves something.
He reaches a hand out to her, tilted halfway between an offer to shake hers, or take it, as a lady might with a real gentleman. Laughable, perhaps, but it's her choice.]
I'm Asch.
[Simple, quietly spoken. He doesn't really know what else to say, but... he doesn't really know her anymore, either.
[Action, February 12th]
He'd been wrong. But she'd been wrong, too, and maybe a part of him had resented her for it. Her continual insistence that he was still "Luke", that she knew him, that he hadn't changed- it had hurt, hearing that. As if the seven years he'd gone through, all that he'd suffered, meant nothing to her. That all she wanted from him was the childish promise of a boy who would be her king. He'd hated that, hearing her say that, and it had driven a wedge between them, one he hadn't really known how to deal with.
They can never go back to that. He's changed too much, and he knows that she's changed, too. Their lives have gone in separate directions, and they both need to learn to live with that.
She understands that, now. He can see it. In her voice, in her words... in that sad, longing smile. She knows, and... she's waiting for an answer.
He looks back in her once more, his gaze focused, intense, though not critical or judgmental, more... uncertain. He's no good at this anymore- he'd been much better with words, polite behaviour, the treatment of a princess, as a child. Years in Daath had changed all the social grace he'd earned in Fabre Manor, like a diamond reversing itself into an unpolished stone. But he'll try. For her, he'll try, because that honest confession deserves something.
He reaches a hand out to her, tilted halfway between an offer to shake hers, or take it, as a lady might with a real gentleman. Laughable, perhaps, but it's her choice.]
I'm Asch.
[Simple, quietly spoken. He doesn't really know what else to say, but... he doesn't really know her anymore, either.
It's time. They have time. And he can try.]