It's not Vrenille's place to tell K that he should want life, want freedom, want comfort or nice things or anything whatsoever. As much as he's wanted all of those for him, been happy for him when he's seemed to have them, he's also been trying to back K's choices ever since he chose to miss his first contract deadline.
Even all those months ago, standing in the aquarium's viewing tunnel together and listening to him talk about what he'd chosen not to do, Vrenille had told him he'd support whatever he decided. He'd been ready to support the contract too, when it happened, though it seemed to be gone in the blink of an eye.
Vrenille's not been one to plead with K about signing, not the first time or the second. He's not weighed in on either occasion, in part because he's sensed this divide in him, this deep ambivalence about all these good-willed promises held out before him and the risk that, yes, they might become something of a poisoned chalice, regardless of everyone's best intentions.
So he can hear this hard truth now probably better than some could; he can hear it without railing against it, or quibbling, or rationalising, or needing to defend the promise of a good, happy life. He can listen, and nod, and feel the weight of this truth--this half of the truth that's counterbalanced by its equal in the elements K doesn't regret, each only taking its meaning when it's viewed alongside the other.
"There is a lotta turmoil in love. There's bliss 'n happiness too, but anyone who says that's all there is is selling something. Love is a mess, like anything real," just like Ana Stelline told him. "Like really being alive," like K has come to be in his time in this city, for better or worse.
"Wanting it to all just stop sometimes--wanting life to stop so it doesn't hurt, doesn't wear you down, so it just lets you rest and gives you some peace? I don't think anyone's lived who hasn't felt that. And it can be--" he casts about for a strong enough word for a moment "--suffocating, like it'll never ease up and there's no way out."
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Date: 2023-04-08 02:08 pm (UTC)Even all those months ago, standing in the aquarium's viewing tunnel together and listening to him talk about what he'd chosen not to do, Vrenille had told him he'd support whatever he decided. He'd been ready to support the contract too, when it happened, though it seemed to be gone in the blink of an eye.
Vrenille's not been one to plead with K about signing, not the first time or the second. He's not weighed in on either occasion, in part because he's sensed this divide in him, this deep ambivalence about all these good-willed promises held out before him and the risk that, yes, they might become something of a poisoned chalice, regardless of everyone's best intentions.
So he can hear this hard truth now probably better than some could; he can hear it without railing against it, or quibbling, or rationalising, or needing to defend the promise of a good, happy life. He can listen, and nod, and feel the weight of this truth--this half of the truth that's counterbalanced by its equal in the elements K doesn't regret, each only taking its meaning when it's viewed alongside the other.
"There is a lotta turmoil in love. There's bliss 'n happiness too, but anyone who says that's all there is is selling something. Love is a mess, like anything real," just like Ana Stelline told him. "Like really being alive," like K has come to be in his time in this city, for better or worse.
"Wanting it to all just stop sometimes--wanting life to stop so it doesn't hurt, doesn't wear you down, so it just lets you rest and gives you some peace? I don't think anyone's lived who hasn't felt that. And it can be--" he casts about for a strong enough word for a moment "--suffocating, like it'll never ease up and there's no way out."