[ She falls silent at his simple admission, which would be common sense from anyone else but which feels unexpectedly vulnerable from him. Has it only been six months? It feels like it's been a lifetime since she's experienced the lively bustle of a city or sat down to eat something new without wondering how it might hijack her mind or body. It's been long enough that even the basement lab has ceased to sate her; endless research yielding few answers has been a poor substitute for the adventurous, result-driven science she's actually passionate about.
So she can relate to the need for a temporary escape. Perhaps especially in his case. She would've been satisfied (in a manner) still living in a beat-up apartment and doing the bare minumum to get by if it meant sticking it to the Augur. Eustace has worked harder to play by the island's twisted rules, prepared more, made more of an effort to survive. It's a wonder that he's never complained at her, or tried to kick her out, or asked for anything in return.
With a slow turning of her heart, she's reminded of her sister. Lana and Eustace are very different people, but Ema can recognize when holding someone out at arm's length isn't the same as a lack of caring — when someone has had to be strong for so long that the walls they put up become difficult to scale on both sides. With Lana, it was the death of her ethics that changed her; with Eustace, Ema can only assume it was the death of his entire youth.
There's not much she can do about it, plainly. By now, it must just be how Eustace is. But without realizing it, somewhere along the way, she's hugged his hand against her stomach and closed her other hand over it, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's an unthinking gesture, her eyes elsewhere, her hands living out a habit of restlessness. ]
You're allowed to take more breaks. You don't always have to be so... alone.
no subject
So she can relate to the need for a temporary escape. Perhaps especially in his case. She would've been satisfied (in a manner) still living in a beat-up apartment and doing the bare minumum to get by if it meant sticking it to the Augur. Eustace has worked harder to play by the island's twisted rules, prepared more, made more of an effort to survive. It's a wonder that he's never complained at her, or tried to kick her out, or asked for anything in return.
With a slow turning of her heart, she's reminded of her sister. Lana and Eustace are very different people, but Ema can recognize when holding someone out at arm's length isn't the same as a lack of caring — when someone has had to be strong for so long that the walls they put up become difficult to scale on both sides. With Lana, it was the death of her ethics that changed her; with Eustace, Ema can only assume it was the death of his entire youth.
There's not much she can do about it, plainly. By now, it must just be how Eustace is. But without realizing it, somewhere along the way, she's hugged his hand against her stomach and closed her other hand over it, giving it a gentle squeeze. It's an unthinking gesture, her eyes elsewhere, her hands living out a habit of restlessness. ]
You're allowed to take more breaks. You don't always have to be so... alone.