[Asch glances down at the hand on his sleeve; Luke was clinging like a child, pleading childishly with childish words. Sometimes it was easy to forget that Luke was seven, maybe eight years old, in truth. Moments like this were when he'd remember.
He'd like to refuse, to be honest. It would be so much easier to snap his arm free, yell at his replica the way he always used to, and throw him out the door. It would be smarter to do that- break things off now before they went too deep again, before he couldn't. Last time Luke came to know him so well that yelling and insulting him didn't even work anymore. It felt like he never had a moment's peace.
...But you were never alone, either.
He hasn't forgotten the empty wound in his head, either, the space that Luke's presence used to unknowingly fill. He felt a bit healthier now, with his fon slots sealed, but he didn't really feel better, did he?
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He'd like to refuse, to be honest. It would be so much easier to snap his arm free, yell at his replica the way he always used to, and throw him out the door. It would be smarter to do that- break things off now before they went too deep again, before he couldn't. Last time Luke came to know him so well that yelling and insulting him didn't even work anymore. It felt like he never had a moment's peace.
...But you were never alone, either.
He hasn't forgotten the empty wound in his head, either, the space that Luke's presence used to unknowingly fill. He felt a bit healthier now, with his fon slots sealed, but he didn't really feel better, did he?
....dammit...]
It's fine. We have to talk, anyway.