"...if you're willing, you should know that you don't have to be alone."
Those words resonate with something in a very deep and dark part of him. Like a part of him that's long since been tucked away in an adolescence that he forgets he's had. Not every day has always been an unpleasant one. It's not as if he's never smiled. True, that perhaps he hasn't given a genuine smile in over a decade, but once he was a happier young man. Once he laughed. Once he carried on with a form of contentment as most people do.
How the years change.
And here she is telling him he doesn't have to be alone. But how to say that even standing in a room full of people, he still feels that he is? So many parts of him are missing that he's almost like a hollow shell walking about. The gestures are all there, but who knows where his heart has gone. Eaten by creatures of darkness. Trampled on and shattered. There are a plethora of theories as to its location and its condition.
'Happy Christmas,' she says. And his name as well. And there's something about it that has an air of sweetness to it. He's almost embarrassed. Well, the truth is that he is. Memories and kindness. There she goes making him a new one. If he has any humanity left in him, perhaps a part of him will consider briefly shedding a tear in the privacy of his own quarters.
"And to you, Midna," he replies carefully. "May yours be a pleasant one." Because there's no part of him that can wish his own unhappiness on her. And if he's honest, he finds himself only tainted beside an imp of pleasantries. There's no part of him that can willingly support the notion that he may taint her in turn. It's just a shame that he doesn't know how to vocalise that yet.
But he does make a mental note to procure her something for the holidays. He may not be able to say it, but at least he can show it.
no subject
Those words resonate with something in a very deep and dark part of him. Like a part of him that's long since been tucked away in an adolescence that he forgets he's had. Not every day has always been an unpleasant one. It's not as if he's never smiled. True, that perhaps he hasn't given a genuine smile in over a decade, but once he was a happier young man. Once he laughed. Once he carried on with a form of contentment as most people do.
How the years change.
And here she is telling him he doesn't have to be alone. But how to say that even standing in a room full of people, he still feels that he is? So many parts of him are missing that he's almost like a hollow shell walking about. The gestures are all there, but who knows where his heart has gone. Eaten by creatures of darkness. Trampled on and shattered. There are a plethora of theories as to its location and its condition.
'Happy Christmas,' she says. And his name as well. And there's something about it that has an air of sweetness to it. He's almost embarrassed. Well, the truth is that he is. Memories and kindness. There she goes making him a new one. If he has any humanity left in him, perhaps a part of him will consider briefly shedding a tear in the privacy of his own quarters.
"And to you, Midna," he replies carefully. "May yours be a pleasant one." Because there's no part of him that can wish his own unhappiness on her. And if he's honest, he finds himself only tainted beside an imp of pleasantries. There's no part of him that can willingly support the notion that he may taint her in turn. It's just a shame that he doesn't know how to vocalise that yet.
But he does make a mental note to procure her something for the holidays. He may not be able to say it, but at least he can show it.