[He catches that moment of silence, letting it pass as what it is. He never grew up in a mansion (he grew up in a modest house, and the only apartment he could afford in New York was as big as a shoebox), but he can easily imagine the emptiness of living in one, an emptiness that would become overwhelming with time. He can relate to it.
And because he can relate to it, he can't help but wonder if Iona feels tinges of loneliness at times, the same way he does; nibbling at his heels, scratching at the inside of his mind, never overbearing, but always seeming to be there. It's almost impossible to believe; she was too bright, too passionate, too outgoing to be like him.
For some reason, he feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at that thought -- before he quickly reprimands himself, because why would he want anyone to feel the same sort of stagnant seclusion as he? There was the saying that misery loved company, but he never thought of that as anything but selfish. He doesn't want to be that guy.
He's snapped out of his reverie when she invites him to sit. He forces a recovering smile and manages:] Thanks. [He sits, sinking into the sofa, and suddenly his feet are reminding him of how sore they are.] Take your time, I'll just rest for a bit until you're ready.
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And because he can relate to it, he can't help but wonder if Iona feels tinges of loneliness at times, the same way he does; nibbling at his heels, scratching at the inside of his mind, never overbearing, but always seeming to be there. It's almost impossible to believe; she was too bright, too passionate, too outgoing to be like him.
For some reason, he feels a sinking feeling in his stomach at that thought -- before he quickly reprimands himself, because why would he want anyone to feel the same sort of stagnant seclusion as he? There was the saying that misery loved company, but he never thought of that as anything but selfish. He doesn't want to be that guy.
He's snapped out of his reverie when she invites him to sit. He forces a recovering smile and manages:] Thanks. [He sits, sinking into the sofa, and suddenly his feet are reminding him of how sore they are.] Take your time, I'll just rest for a bit until you're ready.