Even this TV is nicer than anything J has had before; it's a novelty to have one at all, after months in that quiet room on campus with only a radio and his failures for company. He likes the idea of it, though, if only because it's something they could do together, curling up on the couch and watching whatever nonsense comes on.
It's the rest that touches him, though, his smile soft, faintly grateful. In another time, another life, he knows what he would put in a study. In this one, it matters more to him that S put it in these terms than any notion of what he would do in it. "All of that," he agrees. "A tub so big we could just rest in it together without being cramped. And — and it would be good, a room like that, where... if I need to be alone, I can just... close the door." It wouldn't have to be more than that. He doesn't need to be able to lock the door or anything, and he thinks S would feel better if he can't, though maybe that's bringing too much reality into the dream. But if he needed that space, it would be good to have a way to signal as much gently, especially if he doesn't feel like speaking. It isn't like he doesn't want S's company specifically. There are just times when he needs to be entirely on his own, at least for a little while, and he knows S knows that, but still, with how he cruelly he behaved before, it helps to hear S suggest this, gives him hope that he might be able to take those moments in time he needs without S taking it personally. There was a time when he wouldn't have, but J is gradually adjusting to the understanding that he made that difficult.
"Just until I feel like a person again," he says wryly, though sometimes the problem is that he feels far too much of a person. He gives a little gasp as a thought occurs to him which isn't actually dramatic at all. "Yah, you know what else we should have? A washer and dryer in the house." They have it in the basement here, but even that is a luxury to J. He's never once had that kind of thing for his very own. Most of his life, he washed his clothes by hand — or, really, very often his mother did it while he was at school — and they hung it up to dry, or else they walked to a laundromat. But if he gets to build a dream for them, then it's going to be one where they don't have to make their way into town or wherever every time they run out of clean clothes and sheets.
no subject
It's the rest that touches him, though, his smile soft, faintly grateful. In another time, another life, he knows what he would put in a study. In this one, it matters more to him that S put it in these terms than any notion of what he would do in it. "All of that," he agrees. "A tub so big we could just rest in it together without being cramped. And — and it would be good, a room like that, where... if I need to be alone, I can just... close the door." It wouldn't have to be more than that. He doesn't need to be able to lock the door or anything, and he thinks S would feel better if he can't, though maybe that's bringing too much reality into the dream. But if he needed that space, it would be good to have a way to signal as much gently, especially if he doesn't feel like speaking. It isn't like he doesn't want S's company specifically. There are just times when he needs to be entirely on his own, at least for a little while, and he knows S knows that, but still, with how he cruelly he behaved before, it helps to hear S suggest this, gives him hope that he might be able to take those moments in time he needs without S taking it personally. There was a time when he wouldn't have, but J is gradually adjusting to the understanding that he made that difficult.
"Just until I feel like a person again," he says wryly, though sometimes the problem is that he feels far too much of a person. He gives a little gasp as a thought occurs to him which isn't actually dramatic at all. "Yah, you know what else we should have? A washer and dryer in the house." They have it in the basement here, but even that is a luxury to J. He's never once had that kind of thing for his very own. Most of his life, he washed his clothes by hand — or, really, very often his mother did it while he was at school — and they hung it up to dry, or else they walked to a laundromat. But if he gets to build a dream for them, then it's going to be one where they don't have to make their way into town or wherever every time they run out of clean clothes and sheets.