[ So Riku is sad. That much her smaller mind can grasp and understand, though perhaps the nuances are lost to her, or only shapes most vaguely. Eleven starts raising the bag of make up, then slowly lowers it.
There's a deep line between her brows, some gears slowly turning.
Riku is... okay in the sense of alive. But Riku is sad, and being swallowed by the hole he's not looking at, because he worries about others and not himself.
Eleven realizes, then, that she can never tell him how she tried to find him. He'd worry, he'd blame himself. She doesn't want to add to the things that could make him disappear again.
At least he's not alone. At least Bruce watches over him. And she doesn't know much about Bruce, but she trusts him this far.
And if he's watching over Riku so Riku can deal with his sadness and now get swallowed... ]
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There's a deep line between her brows, some gears slowly turning.
Riku is... okay in the sense of alive. But Riku is sad, and being swallowed by the hole he's not looking at, because he worries about others and not himself.
Eleven realizes, then, that she can never tell him how she tried to find him. He'd worry, he'd blame himself. She doesn't want to add to the things that could make him disappear again.
At least he's not alone. At least Bruce watches over him. And she doesn't know much about Bruce, but she trusts him this far.
And if he's watching over Riku so Riku can deal with his sadness and now get swallowed... ]
Do you... look at yours?