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[ He doesn’t know what to say to that. When he first joined the Scions, he felt he had to earn his place. When Alphinaud asked him to join in the fight for Ala Mhigo, he felt the need to justify his mere presence to the Resistance’s commander.

Mayhap he really is too caught up in his own head about his own worth, when he can’t see how or why others so readily like him. ]

… She was fond of calling me a mistake. My mother, I mean.

[ An explanation no one asked for, but he feels the need to give it all the same. ]

[Words that weigh on the conversation like stones, pressing down on them both, nigh tangible things. Connor hears it for what it is; unasked for, this glimpse into Arenvald’s past. Something raw and vulnerable, and all the more poignant because it was offered to him — provided, when his friend could’ve left it at a figurative nod and a friendly thanks.

Empathy shoots up like an unwanted weed, but despite his awareness of it, he doesn’t push it away. Instead uses it to fuel his reply, intonations subtlety emphatic to guarantee his attention.]

Arenvald… I know that these memories are hard to discard. Difficult more so to disallow them to affect you to this day, letting them form impressions of yourself as something unflattering — as inaccurate as it might be. I won’t be thoughtless enough to tell you to forget them or to wipe them from your mind. I know that the human brain doesn’t work that way.

[That being said—]

That being said, I’m going to ask that you trust me. When I say that you’re not a mistake, these aren’t empty platitudes. It’s the truth, based on what I know of you as a person.

[ Connor’s words wrap themselves around his heart, constricting not in an unpleasant way but rather in a way that reminds him oddly of the sunlight that he can summon up – warm and welcoming and pleasant. People have offered him kind words in the past, have offered thanks or congratulations, but never anything so deeply personal. He’s spent so much time trying to prove that he’s not a mistake, and here Connor just… tells him he isn’t one, like it’s the simplest thing in the world.

All at once, he is both glad that Connor isn’t here to watch the way light springs from his skin, and wishes that he were here. Just why, he cannot say.

The pause this time is only so he can get his powers under control. ]

Of course I trust you.

...Good. Then those notes I've left you, look at them as more than reassurance. More like they're... validations. Of what already clearly exists.

[Simple truth. Connor would like Arenvald to be happy with himself, and to know that Connor didn't write those little notes for ephemeral reasons only is a step in the right direction.

A little bit of the weight dissolves. It leaves something pleasant in its wake.]

I'd like to leave more, on occasion, if you're not against the idea.

Validations, eh?

[ If only he could do something like that for Connor. He's not so sure how to broach the subject of Connor's apparent humanity without a repeat of the tense conversation they had out on the lake, but he wishes to the gods he could.

Mayhap someday. ]

If you really want to, I don't mind.

[ It's... kind of sweet. ]

All right.

[Connor already has a multitude of scribblings queued up on his mind, but he’ll dole them out slowly.]

Be sure to leave your door unlocked, or else I’ll have to find increasingly creative ways to break in.

[(That’s a joke.)]

[ He sure hopes it’s a joke, because it makes him laugh. ]

I’ll be sure to. The last thing I need is you breaking my door down in the middle of the night.

[A laugh means it's a decent joke, indeed, and so Connor marks that as a success in his book!]

That would be needlessly dramatic, wouldn't it?

Just a bit.

[ His chuckle trails off. This is… probably a decent moment to put into practice some of Rion’s suggestions, but he’s nervous about it for some reason. This really shouldn’t be that difficult, yet he hesitates for a moment before, ]

Though, ah, that said, you’re welcome to come by any time you like. You don’t have to be bringing by a note or anything.

[Connor interprets it as… most people would, an offer to spend more time with a friend. Nothing odd about it, though he responds with an eagerness of someone who has received so very little of these kind of invites throughout his short lifetime. Womp.]

I may take you up on that. I believe you still need to show me what progress you’ve made with my quarter?

[ Small steps. Arenvald is not about to blunder his way into proper flirting just yet. Getting to spend time with Connor is more than enough of a good start. ]

I do! Though I fear you might be a bit disappointed. I've managed the trick a handful of times but can't for the life in me manage it consistently.

[Connor actually chuckles lightly, a barely-there sound.]

Think of it this way: inconsistent or otherwise, the increase in success is still exponential — at least, compared to how you performed before.

It is amazing what not feeling ill will do for a person.

[ Coordination is a hell of a thing. ]

That’s true. But it kept you focused. Or maybe distracted is the better word for it?

It kept me distracted by keeping me focused, how about that?

Makes sense, in a very paradoxical sort of way.

Let me know when you have some free time. I’ll stop by to see you whenever it’s convenient.

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