[He sighs, leaning back on his hands again. Dropping his head back to stare at the sky, he mulls over the question and finally shrugs one shoulder.] ...I don't know, honestly. [And that is, actually, honest. He's so terrified of the chance he has at real, sincere happiness, to form bonds as himself and not with plastic smiles and "solving" murders he's committing, because nothing good ever lasts, for him. He ruins everything he touches, and this can't possibly be any different.]
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[He sighs, leaning back on his hands again. Dropping his head back to stare at the sky, he mulls over the question and finally shrugs one shoulder.] ...I don't know, honestly. [And that is, actually, honest. He's so terrified of the chance he has at real, sincere happiness, to form bonds as himself and not with plastic smiles and "solving" murders he's committing, because nothing good ever lasts, for him. He ruins everything he touches, and this can't possibly be any different.]