Because it is dead-on, a critical hit to his worries, so much so that it sounds incredibly obvious once he's heard it out loud and also perfectly continuous with things he should, on paper, already know because other people have spelled those things out for him before.
That is, in fact, kinda the point of it.
All that, and the reminder that—it's self-centered of him, isn't it, to do what he's been doing. The same way it was when he failed to imagine that Lillie would get out and start tackling their family's problems on her own. Left to his own devices, Gladion falls out of step with the people around him and replaces their true wishes with things out of his imagination.
Chilling.
"But she's very self-centered..."
The rote apology makes him squirm, though it's probably a cumulative effect. The scolding-or-affirmation, which takes up more space in Gladion's attention for every extra second he keeps thinking about it. The base discomfort of trying to explain his mother. The apology itself. Which. Well.
Rindo is clearly trying and he can't resent him at all for it. It still just feels weird.
Gladion sighs through his nose, bleeding off immense tension.]
...There's more going on there. The— [important part but no, this is that self-centeredness again. He wants to produce some kind of point to this that justifies why he's explaining it in the first place, and he doesn't want it to have anything to do with himself for the sake of his own pride, and so he's willing to...if not lie, then distort the truth. Considering neither Rindo, nor his mother.
His fingers curl into the bedspread.]
...Never mind. That would've just been...guesswork. [And so, he is pushed to admit to himself: he doesn't have a roadmap for this conversation. Frowning with less tension at the wall, thinking intently, with one fewer lead and one fewer demand taking up space in his head.]
If there's anything you want to know, it's easier to...start there than guess what might be useful.
no subject
Because it is dead-on, a critical hit to his worries, so much so that it sounds incredibly obvious once he's heard it out loud and also perfectly continuous with things he should, on paper, already know because other people have spelled those things out for him before.
That is, in fact, kinda the point of it.
All that, and the reminder that—it's self-centered of him, isn't it, to do what he's been doing. The same way it was when he failed to imagine that Lillie would get out and start tackling their family's problems on her own. Left to his own devices, Gladion falls out of step with the people around him and replaces their true wishes with things out of his imagination.
Chilling.
"But she's very self-centered..."
The rote apology makes him squirm, though it's probably a cumulative effect. The scolding-or-affirmation, which takes up more space in Gladion's attention for every extra second he keeps thinking about it. The base discomfort of trying to explain his mother. The apology itself. Which. Well.
Rindo is clearly trying and he can't resent him at all for it. It still just feels weird.
Gladion sighs through his nose, bleeding off immense tension.]
...There's more going on there. The— [important part but no, this is that self-centeredness again. He wants to produce some kind of point to this that justifies why he's explaining it in the first place, and he doesn't want it to have anything to do with himself for the sake of his own pride, and so he's willing to...if not lie, then distort the truth. Considering neither Rindo, nor his mother.
His fingers curl into the bedspread.]
...Never mind. That would've just been...guesswork. [And so, he is pushed to admit to himself: he doesn't have a roadmap for this conversation. Frowning with less tension at the wall, thinking intently, with one fewer lead and one fewer demand taking up space in his head.]
If there's anything you want to know, it's easier to...start there than guess what might be useful.
[There. Yeah. That's adequate.]