[ Before Cambridge has time to go any further, Oxford moves up several steps. His tone isn't confrontational or accusatory, but it is questioning. He stops before he reaches the landing, hovering on the top step, his hand gripping the bannister. Something stops him from completely closing the gap between the two of them, a sudden fear that something might crumble under his fingerstips if he tries to touch it. ]
For me to try and pretend you're not here? Are you here to be treated unfairly because I'm too used to retreating into some lonely corner when I feel... like this. [ A little more earnestly than before: ] I'm sorry, Cambridge, I really am.
no subject
[ Before Cambridge has time to go any further, Oxford moves up several steps. His tone isn't confrontational or accusatory, but it is questioning. He stops before he reaches the landing, hovering on the top step, his hand gripping the bannister. Something stops him from completely closing the gap between the two of them, a sudden fear that something might crumble under his fingerstips if he tries to touch it. ]
For me to try and pretend you're not here? Are you here to be treated unfairly because I'm too used to retreating into some lonely corner when I feel... like this. [ A little more earnestly than before: ] I'm sorry, Cambridge, I really am.