[Strong...? No, Louis can't find it in him to agree. If he had been stronger in the first place, the second calamity would not have even come to pass. It's not any strength that drives him; it's merely guilt and fear, so thick and deep that he would choke on it and drown. Everything he'd done after were just his attempts to keep his head above that dark water.
So much of the death and destruction was blood that stained his hands, even if indirectly. They call him kind, they call him pure and good—and for what? To what end? Those qualities of his had only bred weakness when he needed strength, hesitation when he needed conviction... and failed him.
However, he can't truly change who he is. That's just another testament to the weakness of his heart. He's not a good person, he's hurt more than he can possibly save, and yet... and yet he can't stop trying. He can't turn away from those in need, and he can't even withstand his culpability. He's too timid, too soft, and try as he might to harden his soul, the pain never truly goes away.
He's not a good person. He's not, but... when people want to believe in him so, who is he to tell them otherwise? How can he deny them that spark of hope, even if it's false? So he lives a lie for the sake of others, only hoping that someday he could live up to what others see in him.
Louis' hands flatten against Ayer's back, touch light enough to hover. All he can manage is a vague smile, lightly shaking his head.]
I wonder about that. She'd been the one making me proud all her life. I have my doubts I can accomplish anything that could hold a candle to her, but I suppose I'm trying, in my own way...
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So much of the death and destruction was blood that stained his hands, even if indirectly. They call him kind, they call him pure and good—and for what? To what end? Those qualities of his had only bred weakness when he needed strength, hesitation when he needed conviction... and failed him.
However, he can't truly change who he is. That's just another testament to the weakness of his heart. He's not a good person, he's hurt more than he can possibly save, and yet... and yet he can't stop trying. He can't turn away from those in need, and he can't even withstand his culpability. He's too timid, too soft, and try as he might to harden his soul, the pain never truly goes away.
He's not a good person. He's not, but... when people want to believe in him so, who is he to tell them otherwise? How can he deny them that spark of hope, even if it's false? So he lives a lie for the sake of others, only hoping that someday he could live up to what others see in him.
Louis' hands flatten against Ayer's back, touch light enough to hover. All he can manage is a vague smile, lightly shaking his head.]
I wonder about that. She'd been the one making me proud all her life. I have my doubts I can accomplish anything that could hold a candle to her, but I suppose I'm trying, in my own way...