[ she feels sorry for it, for the hard edge in her voice, the sharpness of her tone, but this is.. who she is. he is so tender, so easily bruised, but he is stronger than he appears, stronger even than he thinks he is, and sometimes these sorts of things must be ground in harder than is comfortable. this isn't the first that she has seen it - alisaie is perceptive, certainly perceptive enough to have seen this behavior before, and taken note of it, to have peered right through the thin veneer of his jokes and smiles to the self-deprecating humor beneath it.
it is not abnormal to struggle with self-esteem. alisaie had as well, for so long. she had ever been different, from the very moment she was born she tore down the walls built to encase her and defied all expectation, the black lamb following in the footsteps of her rebellious grandsire. she did not have friends, and though her parents loved her, they did not understand her, and have always attempted to shape her into something else, fit her into the box that was not made for her. it was a lonely upbringing, made gradually worse as she matured, as she grew further and further away from all that everyone expected her to be. years, it took, before she learned to be confident in herself, to trust in her own heart, and find her worth.
even now, she struggles with it - these weeks are evidence enough. her helplessness. her uselessness. broken down, it is all too easy to feel as if she has no value, can make no difference.
but she also knows that that is wrong, and she knows that it is wrong for prompto to feel it, too. prompto who has been kind and sweet since the moment they met, prompto who leaps at any chance to help others, strangers, who lights up every room he is in with incredible warmth. her gentle assurances have not been enough, in the past; mayhaps it is simply time she press the issue harder, hurt him to heal him. ]
Aye. The mark. What of it?
[ her tone is softer now, but not entirely gentle, still firm enough to keep on task, to demonstrate that she will not let up. ]
no subject
it is not abnormal to struggle with self-esteem. alisaie had as well, for so long. she had ever been different, from the very moment she was born she tore down the walls built to encase her and defied all expectation, the black lamb following in the footsteps of her rebellious grandsire. she did not have friends, and though her parents loved her, they did not understand her, and have always attempted to shape her into something else, fit her into the box that was not made for her. it was a lonely upbringing, made gradually worse as she matured, as she grew further and further away from all that everyone expected her to be. years, it took, before she learned to be confident in herself, to trust in her own heart, and find her worth.
even now, she struggles with it - these weeks are evidence enough. her helplessness. her uselessness. broken down, it is all too easy to feel as if she has no value, can make no difference.
but she also knows that that is wrong, and she knows that it is wrong for prompto to feel it, too. prompto who has been kind and sweet since the moment they met, prompto who leaps at any chance to help others, strangers, who lights up every room he is in with incredible warmth. her gentle assurances have not been enough, in the past; mayhaps it is simply time she press the issue harder, hurt him to heal him. ]
Aye. The mark. What of it?
[ her tone is softer now, but not entirely gentle, still firm enough to keep on task, to demonstrate that she will not let up. ]