[ In her mind, at least, there's a quick answer to each of his comments.
Yes, it matters. Maybe not to him, but to herโ and certainly to the rest of Mondstadt. And yes, they really can keep saying that.
...Sort of.
It's true that she certainly knows him better than she did 12 hours ago. It's true that he might know her better than almost anyone in Teyvat, including members of her own clan. It's certainly true that he's the first person in years to whom she has revealed parts of her that she usually guards much more closelyโ and within the space of an evening at that.
If all of that is true... are they really strangers anymore?
Her brows crease deeper, a stubborn mental insistence surfacing that yes, yes they are, that an evening wrapped in each others' arms does not closeness make, and her lips part to tell him as much, a sharpness building in the words that die in her mouth, unspoken, when he continuesโ when he asks her if she, too, hates the thought of...
Eula's eyes close as she tries to summon back a semblance of calm. She swallows. ]
...I find them vapid. [ It's a strange admission to make, to be sure. ] They chase after you for your status, for your name, knowing even less of you than I do. But... that's hardlyโ
[ It's hardly comparable to what he's described. And how can it be? The images in her mind are all abstract, after all.
no subject
Yes, it matters. Maybe not to him, but to herโ and certainly to the rest of Mondstadt. And yes, they really can keep saying that.
...Sort of.
It's true that she certainly knows him better than she did 12 hours ago. It's true that he might know her better than almost anyone in Teyvat, including members of her own clan. It's certainly true that he's the first person in years to whom she has revealed parts of her that she usually guards much more closelyโ and within the space of an evening at that.
If all of that is true... are they really strangers anymore?
Her brows crease deeper, a stubborn mental insistence surfacing that yes, yes they are, that an evening wrapped in each others' arms does not closeness make, and her lips part to tell him as much, a sharpness building in the words that die in her mouth, unspoken, when he continuesโ when he asks her if she, too, hates the thought of...
Eula's eyes close as she tries to summon back a semblance of calm. She swallows. ]
...I find them vapid. [ It's a strange admission to make, to be sure. ] They chase after you for your status, for your name, knowing even less of you than I do. But... that's hardlyโ
[ It's hardly comparable to what he's described. And how can it be? The images in her mind are all abstract, after all.
A frown. ]
Tell me about one of them.