[He's really not sure how the conversation ended up being about music. He - hadn't realized it meant anything to him at all until the other man had started talking, pulling up fragments and broken pieces inside him. But he listens when the blond talks about music, taking his words as truth, letting it settle. In the echoes in the hollow parts of him music feels... soothing. And lonely. His brows are down when he looks back up at the screen.]
I don't know. I - don't remember. [It confesses to much more than just notes of lost music but he's still just talking about the music.]
no subject
I don't know. I - don't remember. [It confesses to much more than just notes of lost music but he's still just talking about the music.]