His brows knit together in concern. Food is not just food! This makes him wonder what kind of place Sync comes from. What must have happened to him to think such a thing.
But the question returned eases his worries. At least Sync was willing to keep talking. "My mom makes the best spaghetti in the entire world and I miss it so fucking bad."
Well, Maurice wouldn’t be the first person to wonder that. Really, it was more nurture than the nature of the world Sync came from… but he wasn’t willing to divulge that.
Talking about theoretical food was easier.
The little snippets of useful information he gleans from the other’s words - he has a mother, they seem close if he’s willing to cherish her meals - slides easily into his mind.
“She must be a fairly decent chef then, if it is.” Not that spaghetti might mean the same exact thing between their worlds - and Sync is not so naive to actually think Maurice has tried every variant of the meal before - but it’s easier than talking about… relations.
"Of course she is, look at me." He manages a laugh. But then he...feels a little guilty. He wonders if Sync has a mom. And if he misses her. He's just a kid! Or he thinks he is, by his voice. The mask makes it hard to tell.
And honestly it's kind of hard to tell anything in this place.
"I'll have to make it sometime and you can try it."
Sync couldn’t feel any emotion akin to ‘missing’ like Maurice thought. At least… he’d never had an equivalent to compare his roommate’s situation to. Maybe that empty ache was both better and worse, in the sense he didn’t know what exactly he was lacking in regards to a family situation.
(It still aches. To watch others have what he couldn’t, shouldn’t, attain.)
“…it’s alright. It would be wasted on me.”
Not that he couldn’t actually eat it, and if Maurice actually made some and had Sync sit down with it… and he determined it wasn’t poisoned or something… then Sync could try. But any sort of enjoyment Maurice might expect out of that would be better saved for someone else.
(He’s never had someone share before, not in a way that mattered. Not in such a wholeheartedly good-natured way, something that wasn’t degrading or dangling positive feelings in front of his face.)
Maurice stares at Sync, his brows furrowed--not in an upset way, more so in a way like a person who was seeing a word in a language they almost understood would. And then it clicked and those brows drift up. Oh. OH no.
He's never met somebody who hated themselves the way he did--and said it.
"Oh, God. No...no, it wouldn't. I mean it dosen't."
It was interesting, watching confusion shift to understanding on Maurice’s features. And then the fervent denial.
Odd.
Sync lets out a soft huff. “Deny it all you want. It doesn’t make it any less true.”
He’s used to people attempting uplifting speeches and heroic persuasions when he says such things. In a way, Maurice’s reaction really wasn’t all that uncommon.
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toothaches) wrote2025-03-23 03:07 pm
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But the question returned eases his worries. At least Sync was willing to keep talking. "My mom makes the best spaghetti in the entire world and I miss it so fucking bad."
God, Maurice is so precious XD T.T
Talking about theoretical food was easier.
The little snippets of useful information he gleans from the other’s words - he has a mother, they seem close if he’s willing to cherish her meals - slides easily into his mind.
“She must be a fairly decent chef then, if it is.” Not that spaghetti might mean the same exact thing between their worlds - and Sync is not so naive to actually think Maurice has tried every variant of the meal before - but it’s easier than talking about… relations.
aw thank you!!
And honestly it's kind of hard to tell anything in this place.
"I'll have to make it sometime and you can try it."
He's happy to share his mom.
<3 /cries “He’s happy to share his mom” T.T
(It still aches. To watch others have what he couldn’t, shouldn’t, attain.)
“…it’s alright. It would be wasted on me.”
Not that he couldn’t actually eat it, and if Maurice actually made some and had Sync sit down with it… and he determined it wasn’t poisoned or something… then Sync could try. But any sort of enjoyment Maurice might expect out of that would be better saved for someone else.
(He’s never had someone share before, not in a way that mattered. Not in such a wholeheartedly good-natured way, something that wasn’t degrading or dangling positive feelings in front of his face.)
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CW: self-deprecation implications(so sorry Maurice T.T)
(Even if the honest curiosity that Maurice is looking at him with irks him. He keeps it out of his tone, flat and true as his words form.)
“Sharing something precious with trash just degrades it, doesn’t it?”
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He's never met somebody who hated themselves the way he did--and said it.
"Oh, God. No...no, it wouldn't. I mean it dosen't."
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Odd.
Sync lets out a soft huff. “Deny it all you want. It doesn’t make it any less true.”
He’s used to people attempting uplifting speeches and heroic persuasions when he says such things. In a way, Maurice’s reaction really wasn’t all that uncommon.