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[Are you alright?]
The question pierced his trailing thoughts and he snapped himself back to focus. He cleared his throat and swallowed the odd weight settling in his chest.
“Of course Stanley, what prompted you to ask? You know I am capable of not speaking sometimes, despite your assumptions. A brief pause isn’t indicative of anything.”
[I wouldn’t call half an hour ‘brief’.]
The Narrator blinked and furrowed his brow. There was no possibility that it had been a half hour, no way that he’d been zoned out for longer than just a few minutes. He swore he hadn’t been gone for any more than ten at most .
[Narrator?] Another thought heavy with worry was directed at him. Stanley’s leg bounced fast where he sat uncomfortably on the edge of the sofa in the Boss’ Office. He had been poking and prodding around the room in his usual way he did when he got bored. Looking for hidden details or overlooked minor “mistakes” in every crevice of the Parable. Frankly it was quite uninteresting to watch and so normally The Narrator took the time to ‘tidy up’ or check off something small on his to-do list. As much as he bemoaned the inane distractions, he really didn’t mind all that much the small reprieves Stanley’s insatiable curiosity sometimes offered.
Now, though, Stanely was just sitting. Fists balled on top of his legs, shoulders rigid as he stared off at the ground, waiting for any reply. Had it really been half an hour?
[Literally any sound at all would be great.]
“Right, right, sorry. My apologies Stanley I-..” he trailed off and set his jaw firm. This..wasn’t the first occasion in which he’d lost time caught up in his own head. But it was the first time Stanley seemed to notice. Granted, it could simply be the first time he’d said anything about it, but The Narrator figured it unlikely the man would keep quiet about a change in behaviour if he’d noticed it earlier.
[What’s going on with you? You’re acting..really weird. It’s kinda freaking me out.]
A pang shot through his heart. He replied with a palpable guilt that he tried to wring out of his words to no avail. “I..don’t mean to worry you Stanley, again I apologize. Just..lost in my own thoughts I suppose, nothing to worry about I assure you. If you are done here then we can carry right along You’re well on your way to a good, clean True Ending run.”
His attempt to steer the situation was entirely ignored and Stanley crooked his head towards the ceiling. His expression was laden with concern that just made that weight in The Narrator’s chest feel heavier. He did his best to choke down that feeling.
[Right..no I think we’re not going anywhere ‘till you ‘fess up. What’s going on? Did something happen?]
The Narrator sighed and drew a metaphorical hand over his face. Of course Stanley wasn’t going to take a hint, he wasn’t a man of subtlety. Okay, direct action it is.
“Personal matters Stanley, they don’t concern you. I’d like to just move on if you’d be so kind.”
A cocked brow then Stanley standing to fold his arms over his chest. At the same time, the sound of an incorrect buzzer alarm was projected to The Narrator. [Nope, wrong, that’s not convincing either. Stop tryna worm out of this, I’m not going anywhere until you’re honest.]
The Narrator sighed again, though it came out a bit sulkier than he’d intended. Like a child wordlessly complaining. He cringed at his own slip-up and tried to steel his facade for the third time.
“No, I’m putting my foot down on this Stanley. It doesn’t involve you. Not everything I do is about you, Stanley, and, as shocking as it may be to hear, you don’t need to go sticking your nose in everything. Sometimes it would do you well to mind your own business.”
Stanley laughed sharply. [Worst lie yet. So this is really bothering you that much, whatever this big secret is? C’moooon, what is it? Some new place you don’t want me in yet? A big mistake you found that you’re super embarrassed about? Ooh, maybe a new feature you haven’t decided on, that would be better than a new location I think. I really think this game needs some sort of damage mechanic, like environmental destruction. That would be cool.]
Stanley’s worry dissipated to nothing as he went on, his mental tone twisting to one of playful ragging as he ‘spoke’. Evidently, The Narrator’s replies had made him less concerned rather than more. The Narrator exhaled silently and rubbed at his eyes. It was an..unsatisfactory success, but he’d take it. At least Stanley wasn’t suspicious of anything close to the real issue.
He had actually been being honest. For this particular problem it had taken him a good long while to accept and be honest with himself about what was happening, in fact. It was a personal matter. Interpersonal, to be more specific. Or did that specification make it less personal by virtue of relating to someone else? God, maybe he didn’t know what was going on. The Narrator let Stanley rattle on about his stupid, impossible, nonsensical ideas for the Parable as he went back to his snooping. The background noise of the man’s thought stream gave The Narrator time to try and really put this into words at least.
What did he know for certain? That seemed easy enough to start with. Well, he knew the symptoms, to put a word to things. Or maybe ‘feelings’ was better? Sensations? It was his job to put words to paper and his total inability to describe what he was experiencing was almost more frustrating than the issue itself. He took a breath though and refocused. Symptoms. He’d stick with that for now.
He’d began seeing them pop up only at certain times during loops, though it had taken a few dozen runs for him to solidly outline a pattern. And, distressingly enough, it all tied back to Stanley.
The Narrator didn’t have a body currently, so pinpointing the source of a specific symptom was a little more difficult. If it wasn’t a tangible problem in his code, there wasn’t something to follow. No pop-up message with an error code he could trace to a particular file, no misplaced or misnamed bit of data. Nothing easy to solve.
Rather, he felt this all throughout his intangible being. Though he didn’t possess them at the moment, The Narrator had taken to colloquially attach body parts to different sensations for ease of organizing feelings and, when applicable, explaining them aloud. It was only something he’d been able to do since spending some time in a physical character model, but it had proven to be quite useful at times. Right now, though, it just seemed to be running him in circles.
The Narrator sighed to himself and momentarily Stanley’s past words berated him- he was rambling to avoid the problem. Stanley’s thought stream had gone quiet a short time ago and the man was tapping at every single book on the shelves along to the beat of some song he was playing in his head. He’d be getting bored here soon and want to move on. That would be a welcome distraction, The Narrator thought. But focus, come on. He couldn’t keep dancing around this.
It was in his chest. A weight, an ache. Something that pulled at his code with a want he couldn’t define. It wasn’t painful, but it was uncomfortable. Most of the time it was faint, lingering at the back of his mind, far enough away he could even forget about it sometimes. But it was always Stanley that made it resurface. Brought that weighty dull ache back to the forefront of The Narrator’s mind. When he’d smile, when he’d hum, when he sang in his head like he was doing now. When he’d laugh in that stupid little way that made him nearly pass out from lack of breath. When he’d stop talking, stop moving, and just look up at the ceiling with that soft, gentle expression of appreciation and..attention. Complete, undivided attention..
[What was that?] Stanley asked passively, with only half-hearted curiosity. The Narrator felt his throat burning and if he had eyes to cry with they’d be brimming with tears. He cursed at himself for being so bloody distracted and calmed his code as best he could. He couldn’t bring himself to look at Stanley as he answered.
“A sigh, Stanley. This is incredibly dull to watch you do. I understand that your simple mind is very easily entertained but maybe now you’re in the mood to collaborate? To actually be productive about something we can both get something out of?”
Stanley gave him a dramatic eye roll and slumped his shoulders with a heavy, childish sigh. [Fiiiine, I guess. You really can’t let me do anything on my own huh? Gotta be the center of attention at all times?]
The Narrator tried to ignore the sharp wince that comment coaxed out of him. His voice gave away nothing. “Quite hypocritical of you Stanley. Some self reflection might be due. Now, are we done here?”
⬤⬤⬤
As unconcerned as Stanley seemed to be, he didn’t forget the interaction. Maybe ten cycles later, he mentioned it again.
[Hey, you never actually answered what that thing was.]
Stanley was walking slowly around the Expo Hall, just goallessly looking around. After he’d told The Narrator he liked to come here just to admire how “cool and trippy” the architecture was, The Narrator stoped fussing about him not paying attention to the exhibits. The building wasn’t the main attraction, no, but the genuine compliment had made him smile. The least he could do as thanks was not bicker.
“Hm? What thing? You’ll have to be far more specific than that Stanley, use your words.”
He didn’t really know why he was drawing this out. He knew Stanley far too well to believe even for a minute fraction of a second that playing dumb would get him a free pass on this. Maybe it was the surge of backburner anxiety that crept into his head. Nothing had really been said yet. Nothing had happened, nothing was given away. But that spark of fear burned at the back of his speech and he was finding himself hyper-paranoid about just how audible it was in his tone.
Stanley huffed through his nose and looked away from the wall of new office carpet photos to side-eye the sky.
[No, don’t do that again. What’s really going on? You had no reaction at all to everything I was making up for gameplay, so I’m guessing that was wrong. You wouldn’t be able to keep your mouth shut if I was making assumptions about actual game changes.]
Alright, ow. But he wasn’t entirely wrong.
“The derision is hardly necessary Stanley. Certainly uncalled for when I merely asked you to clarify your vague question.”
[You’re just upset that I know how petty you are.]
“I am not , I-” The Narrator bit his tongue and pouted for a moment. He wasn’t going to prove Stanley right by rising to a jab like that. He gave it a beat before replying with faux calmness.
“Did you have a real question to ask Stanley or were you just in the mood to mock me?”
A moment passed where The Narrator caught wind of unfinished sentences, casual thoughts brokenly toying with the idea of insulting him further. Thankfully, he breathed to himself, Stanley decided to put those ideas away for now.
[No, I really wanna know. It seemed to really bother you. Normally you’re not so hush hush about that sorta thing.]
So he was worried? The Narrator silently huffed. He may be inside Stanley’s head, but the man was confounding and was more often than not a hassle to follow. Hearing his contradictory thoughts and feelings on a matter rarely cleared anything up. And right now, Stanley was deliberately keeping his underlying thoughts locked up tight.
“You really aren’t going to drop this, are you? Even though I’ve explicitly stated I don’t want to discuss it and that it’s a personal matter that doesn’t concern you?”
[If there’s anything I’ve learned here it’s that everything that upsets you, concerns me.]
Again, ow. And again, not entirely wrong. Not that The Narrator would be admitting that.
“You’re impossible Stanley, you really are. You’re an absolute wall to speak to at times. For being a protagonist that’s supposed to be mute you have quite a lot of lip to give. Maybe now is a perfect time to practice boundaries and respecting when another person sets one. It doesn’t matter how much you may want to know something, sometimes, the best course of action is to just say nothing at all. Surprising, I know. A concept unbeknownst to you until this very moment I imagine. Well Stanley I am happy to educate you on this topic and I hope-”
[You’re rambling.]
The Narrator stuttered to a stop and fell silent. He..had been, hadn’t he? He didn’t even realize it this time actually. He often rambled deliberately either to irritate Stanley or because he genuinely had a lot to say. But Stanley had made him annoyedly aware of just how often he did it out of stress as well. It wasn’t a quirk he was very fond of in himself.
“I..I wasn’t. I was trying to prove a point to you.”
[Right.]
Stanley moved out into the open entry space of the Hall and looked around. His expression was set stern as he ran through thoughts he wasn’t allowing The Narrator to hear. The quiet was unpleasant, but still stinging from the callout, The Narrator kept his own thoughts quiet as well.
[We could go to the Memory Zone.] Stanley finally projected, glancing up. [There isn’t really anywhere comfortable in here.]
“The Memory Zone? Why would we go there?”
[To talk. If you get rid of the collision around that bench we could sit outside and talk about whatever your problem is. That’s about the most relaxing place here that I can think of for that kinda thing.]
“Stanley, there is no talking to be done, I’m not- I already gave you my answer on this and it is final. This doesn’t need further discussing.”
Stanley rolled his eyes very visibly and cast them sharply upwards. [Yes, it does.]
“No, Stanley. We-”
[I’m not budging on this one, Narrator. You’re being really fuckin’ weird and I’m not letting this go ‘till you tell me why.]
The Narrator didn’t reply. His code was twisting painfully in his gut and if he had a desk with hands to grip it he’d be doing so right now. Why did Stanley have to be so goddamn stubborn? Why did he have to be so tuned into The Narrator’s own tells? This was never supposed to be a two-way street, The Narrator was supposed to be in charge here. He was inside Stanley’s head because he needed to know what his protagonist was thinking so he could always be one step ahead. Stanley wasn’t literally peeking into his thoughts but it damn near felt like it at times.
[Nar,] Stanley’s soundless voice spoke gently, interrupting The Narrator’s spiralling anxiety. [Let me be a part of this. Let me help.]
The bastard, why would he say it like that? The Narrator felt his words catch in his throat and he ground his teeth together. He wasn’t getting out of this, was he?
“One minute.” Was all he managed to mutter out before he cut it all off, forcing a reset. He didn’t bring it back right away though. He needed a moment, just one moment to breathe and collect himself. Stanley hadn’t said it but The Narrator saw the mental images that ran in the background of the man’s questions- he wanted The Narrator physically down there. When he’d said they could sit and talk, Stanley had meant the both of them.
But that was worse! In this state at least, The Narrator had the cover of silence. If he could hold his tongue, then nothing could give him away. Stanley wouldn’t be able to hear a crack in his words or a shake to his tone if he couldn’t hear The Narrator at all. He had that plan b if he was honestly struggling to cover up this inane issue he was having. This didn’t need talking about, this didn’t need addressing. It needing fixing. He just needed time to zero in on what the exact problem was and then it would be solved. Done and dusted, nothing more to it.
It was some simple problem with a simple solution, what else could it be?
But if that were the case, then why was the thought of even trying to put it into words to Stanley sending his CPU into a tailspin?
He couldn’t sit in the void forever. With a sluggish reluctance, The Narrator unfroze the program and let it all reset. He made sure, though, to set it to the Memory Zone. He watched with a tight brow and pursed lips as Stanley came to, standing in the stone doorway at the start of the area. A sort of determination washed over the man and he turned his head up.
[Good, thanks. I’ll meet you at the bench.]
And with that direct order, he strode off. The Narrator hung back in the entry room, still debating up to the last second if he was going to follow through on this. He had to now, didn’t he? He’d never hear the end of Stanley’s berating if he backed out now after already loading in the entire Memory Zone. Fine, alright. He could settle this. Breathe, compose yourself, stand firm. If a face-to-face is what it took for Stanley to drop this, then that’s what he’d do. It wasn’t ideal, but what situation ever was with Stanley involved?
The Narrator took in a deep, slow breath, grounding himself to the ever-disorienting first-person fixed viewpoint of a physical game model, then started forwards. Stanley was right about this being the most relaxing place in the Parable. But then again of course it was. The Narrator had designed it that way after all. The faux birdsong, the perfect late spring temperature, an abundance of vibrancy and life. He loved the look of the office and the unique tone it set. Harsh edges, dull colours, the artificial feel of it all. It all served a purpose.
But, he could admit, he had an appreciation for the harmony of nature and a space that wasn’t designed, and just ‘was’.
He took his time passing through the first building of the Zone. It didn’t matter how many times he looked it all over, The Narrator found comfort in the memories placed here. Any little bit of comfort helped him to steel himself right now. So he made sure to give every piece a passing glance as he made his way to the small outdoor space between buildings.
[Took your time. I was starting to think you’d up and left.] Stanley stood up from where he was leaning on the back of the bench. He took a noticeable moment to give The Narrator a once over and a smile before he knocked a knuckle against the air above the bench.
[Left the collision on though.] He thought with a bemused smirk. The Narrator scoffed and flicked his wrist, producing a small admin menu only he could access. A couple quick commands then he waved it away.
“There. I think it’s wholly unnecessary though, we aren’t going to be here long. There really is no need to sit.”
[I’ll give you this, anyone else would be convinced by this little act of denial you’ve got going on. Wasting your energy trying it on me though.]
Stanley moved around the bench and fell back into it with an exhale. He stuck his legs out and cross his ankles, clasping his hands loosely on his lap. With a cocked brow he looked to The Narrator who couldn’t manage to hold the man’s gaze as he came to sit much more stiffly next to him.
[So,] Stanley began, looking out over the landscape. [what’s actually going on with you? If it was my fault I would’ve heard about it by now, so what did I do but not really do?]
“What does that even mean , Stanley?”
[It means exactly what I said. If I did something directly, you would’ve gotten mad at me outright. If it had nothing to do with me, you’d’ve vented to me about it. So all that leaves is something that I did but didn’t really do. Yes, no?]
The Narrator blinked and internally grouched. Goddammit, Stanley wasn’t supposed to be able to do this. He wasn’t supposed to be able to figure out where The Narrator was coming from. The Narrator hadn’t given him a lick of a hint of what was going through his mind and yet Stanley had narrowed down the issue in a sentence regardless.
[The silence tells me yes. Okay good, one step closer.] Stanley nodded and turned to The Narrator. The Narrator was looking towards the ground but he was keenly aware of the gaze burrowing into him at his side. He fought the urge to turn further away and cautiously glanced to Stanley. He was smiling. Softly, but clearly.
“You seem like you’re enjoying this.” The Narrator muttered bitterly to be met with a furrowed brow.
[I’m not enjoying it. Not like, in a mean way. I guess..] Stanley hm’d and tapped a finger against his hand. [I don’t often get to help you do something, so it’s..novel, I guess? See you be weird isn’t fun but getting the chance to maybe help is.]
The Narrator sighed and shed a bit of the rigidity of his pose. He leaned back against the bench and folded his arms across his chest. He was sure now that Stanley genuinely meant well, he wasn’t here to collect ammo for mockery. That didn’t mean this was going to be any easier.
“Alright..” The Narrator mumbled. Stanley sat up a little straighter, his attention honing in on The Narrator. His disjointed train of thought went quiet as he focused entirely on his companion. The Narrator, with some difficulty, continued on.
“Alright, I..I see that you aren’t going to let this go. I meant it when I said I didn’t want to discuss this but I can be big enough to recognize when I’m fighting a losing battle.”
That sentence got a snort laugh from Stanley, but the man didn’t interrupt further.
“I’ve been experiencing..symptoms, recently. Of what I’m not yet sure, that’s what I’ve been trying to figure out. I’ve searched everywhere in my and the Parable’s code, there’s nothing digitally amiss. I’ve not gotten any error codes or malfunctions or anything of the sort. If this is a software issue it’s a very well concealed one.
“That has led me to assume it’s of a psychological nature. That’s even more confounding than it being a problem with the code though, if I’m being honest. I’ve been thinking and thinking and I-I can’t come up with a single reason why I would be having any sort of difficulty, there’s no cause for it. That is precisely why I didn’t want to talk about though, there’s nothing to talk about. A nebulous intangible hitch in my operations doesn’t make for very good conversation and without a known source there isn’t anything specific to even discuss. There’s nothing to be said, so why are we even sitting here-”
A knuckle gently running across his cheek startled him sharply out of his speech. Reflexively he leaned back a bit and drew his eyes from the ground to lock onto Stanley. The man hesitated then slowly brought his hand back to himself. His thoughts were quiet and coloured dark with concern.
[Sorry..you’re crying.]
The Narrator murmured a sound of confusion under his breath and touched at an eye. He wouldn’t call it ‘crying’, that was a bit of an exaggeration. But he had teared up. Godammit, he was supposed to be in control here! He hated that his poise was taking such an immediate backseat to this stupid nameless hurdle.
[Hey, hey..] Stanley’s voice and a cautious hand on his arm. [Stay with me, don’t go spiralling off.]
For the first time since sitting down, The Narrator met Stanley’s eye. He took a steadying breath and a moment to listen in on what the other was thinking. Stanley wasn’t keeping anything under wraps right now, and his thought stream was flooded with worried questions and guesses of his own as to what was happening. It was all too overlapped to pick out anything in full but in passing The Narrator heard something about him acting ‘human’. He latched onto that one and scoffed quietly.
“I’m not human Stanley, it’s not a human issue.”
It took Stanley a beat to realize what The Narrator was replying to. But when he did he clenched his jaw and turned so he was sitting sideways on the bench, facing The Narrator properly.
[You can still feel emotions like a human being. Even if how you get there is completely different, you still feel things the same way. I can help with that.]
The Narrator pff’t. “You say that as if you’re an expert on emotional stability. Stanley I’ve seen you cry more times than you’ve died here.”
[Wouldn’t that make me an expert on it then?] He asked with a raise of his brows. The Narrator didn’t have a good answer to that. After a pause Stanley went on, tightening his grip just a bit on the man’s arm. [Let me try at least. These ‘symptoms’ or whatever, what do they feel like? And don’t just start talking around them like you always do, actually tell me how you feel.]
Where did he even begin with that? The Narrator never put much time into delving into his inner psyche. He had other things to do, other things to focus on. If something arose, he’d compartmentalize it and set it aside. That method had worked just fine up to now.
But what it meant in this moment, he was realizing, was he was at a loss for words of how to explain this to Stanley. Not just that either but he needed a minute to translate it to this form, too. Everything was far more concentrated like this. When he was intangible, at least he had the relief of space. There was a lot more square footage for emotions to be spread out over, dulling the feeling entirely. He didn’t have that luxury in a game model though. And the more he began to focus on that fact, the sharper the ache in his chest became. With great effort he shoved the suffocating intensity down and grasped for relief through speaking.
“I’m-..It- There’s a uhm..a weight. A sort of, ache, I suppose. It radiates out from the chest and sort of envelops my thoughts. It’s hard to describe I..I can’t say I’m familiar with it. All other sensations I experience I can put a word to, I can trace them back to a source. But I honestly have absolutely zero idea what this ambiguous feeling is or what could be causing it other than-”
He hesitated. Abruptly cut himself short as he looked over Stanley’s face. For all the insight the mind reading allowed him at times, one thing he consistently had trouble parsing was facial expressions. He got the distinct sense that Stanley knew, in some manner, what his sentence was going to finish with though.
“It always gets worse around you.” He hurried the words out like they were poison. One very loud part of his mind wanted to stop right there, maybe even force a sudden reset. Not that it would do much of anything. As soon as Stanley was back awake he’d be projecting thoughts at The Narrator faster than a bullet train.
But stronger than that desire to run was the dam that evidently broke as soon as he made that admittance. Before he was entirely aware of it, The Narrator was overcorrecting.
“W-what I mean by that of course is not that you make it ‘worse’ worse. Worse as in more noticeable, more..impactful. Stronger. Certain things you do or say, behaviours of yours, they all trigger a metaphorical chemical reaction that sets that-that ache off. Adds another load to the existing weight. I couldn’t possibly deduce why that is, I’ve already looked at it from every angle. Beyond the connection to you I’ve found no pattern in what you do that causes a reaction.”
He faintly was aware of a questioning thought asking him what behaviours he was referring to. He was answering that question before fully processing that he’d even been asked it.
“When I manage to make you laugh, I’ve found that to be quite a consistent trigger. Before I’ve always chalked it up to the satisfaction of a well executed joke but considering all the other factors now, I’m not so sure anymore. There’s- now this is a stab in the dark but bear with me Stanley -there’s a little thing you do, I’m not even sure you’re aware that you do it. When you sing in your head, when you play music, you’re always moving along to it. Not always dancing, it isn’t always that obvious. But you’re never still. You’ll tap along to it, or hum, or sort of bop your head. I’ve even seen you mouthing along to it on rare occasion. Your lip syncing is a bit rusty I’ll say but it’s-..I don’t know, it’s endearing, I suppose.”
“And more than anything,” The Narrator paused for breath. He wasn’t used to needing that when speaking. He tried not to let himself get distracted with the giddy smile on Stanley’s face.
“When you pay attention to the story. I mean, when you really pay attention. When your thoughts go quiet and you focus in on my words, taking in every syllable, really truly drinking it all in. There’s no better feeling than knowing I’ve got your undivided attention, Stanley. There’s nothing better than seeing you totally and completely enraptured. It’s..well, to put a word to it, I’d call it intoxicating.”
Finally, The Narrator let quiet fall between them. He’d only glanced at Stanley a handful of times while talking but now that all his laundry was out to see, he saw no reason to avoid the man’s reaction anymore.
And it was one that almost startled him. Stanley was absolutely beaming. His gorgeous brown eyes were alight and he practically bled joy. After a beat he laughed aloud and pulled The Narrator in for an unexpected embrace. He didn’t have time enough to reciprocate before Stanley pulled away, though he kept his hands on The Narrator’s shoulders.
[You’re an idiot.] He giggled. The Narrator made a noise of offense.
“What?”
[You’re an idiot!] Stanley repeated, though he kept going this time. [You’ve really thought all of that was a problem this whole time? Nar, look up the definition of ‘affection’ when you get a spare minute, jeeze.]
Stanley laughed again, moving a hand to cover his mouth as he looked off over the landscape. The Narrator could just about hear the gears of his mind groan with the effort of changing directions so suddenly. Of fucking course, god he was a goddamn idiot! Bloody good wordsmith he was not even thinking of the one word that summarized this whole mess. He had to be told by Stanley what his own feelings meant? This whole thing really was off-rails now, wasn’t it? Honestly it was on him for thinking their dynamic was still on-script at this point anyway. It was Stanley’s MO to deviate, after all. The Narrator really shouldn’t be so surprised that this is how this turned out.
[Endearing.] He heard Stanley repeat with a warm hum. The man dropped his hand down, finding The Narrator’s and intertwining his fingers with The Narrator’s own.
[Never in a million cycles would I ever’ve thought you’d use that word to describe me.] He chuckled, a honeysweet sound that brought a flutter of feeling to The Narrator’s heart. [You’re really sweet when you’re not wrapped up in being petty.]
Even the backhanded- though, admittedly, lighthearted -compliment didn’t shake The Narrator’s creeping smile. He let out a heavy breath, exhaling with it the tension in his shoulders and the fog that had been clinging to his thoughts for..god, he didn’t know how long now. What he’d been feeling was affection. Attachment. An appreciation for the only company had in his Parable. The only company he felt he needed.
“How..do you feel about it?” He thought to ask, turning an eye to Stanley. The man hummed in thought then scooted closer as he answered.
[I think it’s really cute how much you care, even if it’s really stupid that you didn’t realize it.]
The Narrator huffed through his nose and rolled his eyes. “What a way with words you have, Stanley, I’m touched.”
Stanley laughed. [Really though, it’s..really nice to hear all that. It feels nice to know you care about me, I guess, beyond what I’m ‘supposed’ to do for the story. The fact you pay attention enough to notice little things, I- well..yeah. It makes me feel..important.]
Stanley came to sit right up next to The Narrator and with a soft breath lay his head on the other’s shoulder.
“You are important Stanley, in far more ways than just your role here. I..apologize if I never made that clear before.”
[That’s okay, don’t feel bad. I know now. And hey,] Stanley hummed a smile and looked up. The Narrator couldn’t help but smile back. [You’re important to me too.]