❛ well, officially i’m called a protectorate, but some of my clients have called me a therapist before, ❜ she furrows a brow a moment, nearly interrupting herself before he can correct her. ❛ oh, goodness, that’s surely not what you meant— sorry, dear, i thought you meant occupationally,❜ she adds, almost an afterthought. ❛ my name,❜ she chuckles, a soft and airy laugh, ❛ is FERN. fern paragon,❜she doesn’t hesitate to reciprocate the request.❛and how about your own … ?❜
HE laughs — he can’t remember the last time he laughed. he finds this person different, understanding, so warm & soft but not in the way he & his kind hate. she does not reek of blind obedience, of wasted purity. she does not discriminate between the ethereal & the hell - bound. he likes her. ❛ fern. ❜ he sounds the name out, & hums contentedly. ❛ i don’t have a name. i am nameless. ❜ voice is quieter now, & he looks about his surroundings, before turning to gaze at fern. fern. ❛ but, they have called me ‘ arsenic ’. we are assigned symbols, not names. you may call me what you wish. ❜ he tells her, bowing his head.
