[ He'd just been listening quietly while Amos spoke, watching the minute shifts and changes in the other's expression. The easy way Amos speaks about the people from his home. That familiar little flicker of wistfulness that shows up in his eyes and the cadence of his words. The grace with which he dismisses the personal cost it must have taken to play the role of his group's shield. (Or rather, maybe it's simply that Amos doesn't think of it as a cost at all. Which, in itself, seems like a cost.) And when Amos looks to him, Gen manages to meet his gaze for a moment before glancing away. ]
... you're way more of a nice guy than you say you are, huh.
[ It's an actual compliment, too. Not something he's saying to be derisive or sarcastic. Though his delivery remains somewhat deadpan, his exhaustion lends his words a softer, more honest quality.
The ember of his cigarette burns bright as Gen takes a small puff, then exhales through his nose, watching the smoke bloom around him. ]
Having to protect so many people and take the hits for them all the time ... I know that shit's not easy. Even knowing some people just can't deal with things like that, that they'd just buckle under the pressure, or ... that they shouldn't have to deal with it. Even knowing all that stuff, that still doesn't make it feel right all the time. Felt unfair sometimes. [ Or at least, playing the role of the 'hero' had felt unfair for him. But he knows his circumstances are different from Amos'. Maybe his own weren't that unfair in the end either, or maybe fairness doesn't matter if Amos really had been content to play that role. Maybe Amos is so damaged, or noble, or both, that that arrangement really was fine by him. There's a pause before Gen adds quietly, ] I hope they all appreciated what you were doing for'em, at least.
[ A short exhale, and Gen pulls his cigarette away to tap off the ash as he manages to meet Amos' eyes once more. ]
Dunno why you're always saying you're not a good person.
[ He can't easily take that offer of help that Amos is extending his way; it's just not in his nature, and he's too accustomed to try to fend for himself, taught from a young age that his sins have to be held close to his chest and buried deep. But at least he can say this much. ]
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... you're way more of a nice guy than you say you are, huh.
[ It's an actual compliment, too. Not something he's saying to be derisive or sarcastic. Though his delivery remains somewhat deadpan, his exhaustion lends his words a softer, more honest quality.
The ember of his cigarette burns bright as Gen takes a small puff, then exhales through his nose, watching the smoke bloom around him. ]
Having to protect so many people and take the hits for them all the time ... I know that shit's not easy. Even knowing some people just can't deal with things like that, that they'd just buckle under the pressure, or ... that they shouldn't have to deal with it. Even knowing all that stuff, that still doesn't make it feel right all the time. Felt unfair sometimes. [ Or at least, playing the role of the 'hero' had felt unfair for him. But he knows his circumstances are different from Amos'. Maybe his own weren't that unfair in the end either, or maybe fairness doesn't matter if Amos really had been content to play that role. Maybe Amos is so damaged, or noble, or both, that that arrangement really was fine by him. There's a pause before Gen adds quietly, ] I hope they all appreciated what you were doing for'em, at least.
[ A short exhale, and Gen pulls his cigarette away to tap off the ash as he manages to meet Amos' eyes once more. ]
Dunno why you're always saying you're not a good person.
[ He can't easily take that offer of help that Amos is extending his way; it's just not in his nature, and he's too accustomed to try to fend for himself, taught from a young age that his sins have to be held close to his chest and buried deep. But at least he can say this much. ]