Stephen never would’ve thought he’d willingly delve into a personal conversation like this, because usually please god don’t tell him about your romantic drama,

but he finds that he cares, for once. About both of them. Perhaps the context matters. It isn’t just tedious social contrivance; there’s gruesome history here, rifters coming and going, an attack, an infected wound he had to clean out with his own two hands. He hesitates a little too long, however, as he listens to Cosima. There’s another unexpected flicker; a sharp twist like he’s caught his breath wrong.

“Yeah. I expect it can be… maddening, someone else making assumptions about your own motivations, not trusting you to know yourself.”

Now it’s his turn for his gaze to drift to the ceiling, glancing away. “And I say that as someone who once did that exact same shit to Christine. Well within her rights to dump me, probably. I had to learn the extremely hard way that if someone says they want to help you, you should probably believe them at face value.”

At least he’s self-aware enough to realise it now, though, literal years later.

“Was Herian like that before the Tranquility? Driven by blind obligations herself.”