“How can I trust you, Virgil?”
He stared at his brother. The fire in Alan’s eyes burnt. Virgil took a step back.
“How can I speak to you and know that what I’m saying isn’t being heard by everyone? How can I know that that thing in your head hasn’t been tapped into by Eos, by anyone?”
Virgil opened his mouth, but nothing came out.
“You’ve done this once to my ‘bird. How do I know you won’t do it again?” Alan’s lips thinned. “I’m sorry. It just doesn’t work for me.”
Alan turned and walked away.
And Virgil’s heart just stopped.
This is what dropped into my head, at work, while shelving books. They spent the rest of my desk shift angsting in my head. What the hell, Alan??? ::headdesk:: I’m going to go have lunch now ::glares at him::
(there is an edge, I fell off it years ago.)