[ The expression on Cain's face is one Frederick's unused to seeing, one solemn rather than mischievous. It transforms him almost into a different man, and for a moment Frederick wonders just which is the real Cain, the cheerful man he's known up until now or the one that stands before him with a heavy weight on his heart.
It feels wrong to peer into such a deeply private memory and Frederick wishes for nothing more than to escape unseen, but Cain - the real Cain, made of flesh and blood - turns just as he's about to leave. Would it be ruder to leave without a word, or stay and pry even deeper?
Frederick hesitates a moment, then stands his ground to ask: ]
iv, what if it didn't take me 205892308424 to tag into anything
It feels wrong to peer into such a deeply private memory and Frederick wishes for nothing more than to escape unseen, but Cain - the real Cain, made of flesh and blood - turns just as he's about to leave. Would it be ruder to leave without a word, or stay and pry even deeper?
Frederick hesitates a moment, then stands his ground to ask: ]
Do you still speak to him here?
[ His brother, that is. ]