Siffrin hunches into himself, setting the glass aside. It shows too much how he trembles holding it. It isn't out of grief, but anger and frustration. Hatred. It boils up inside and then deflates, because
unlike that person, at least Sampo is apologizing. At least he means it. That's something.
(Isn't it? Still, still you--) ]
... Can't forgive you.
[ Simple as that. Loop... was not a friend, but they... were still important. This is true. A mutual gift of flowers speaks to it. ]
But I won't... hold it against you, either. Since you wouldn't have hurt them otherwise. [ A beat.
no subject
You know he wasn't. But still, you...)
Siffrin hunches into himself, setting the glass aside. It shows too much how he trembles holding it. It isn't out of grief, but anger and frustration. Hatred. It boils up inside and then deflates, because
unlike that person, at least Sampo is apologizing. At least he means it. That's something.
(Isn't it? Still, still you--) ]
... Can't forgive you.
[ Simple as that. Loop... was not a friend, but they... were still important. This is true. A mutual gift of flowers speaks to it. ]
But I won't... hold it against you, either. Since you wouldn't have hurt them otherwise. [ A beat.
Then, more guarded: ] Right?