I'd like that. They would like that, if they could listen.
[Probably. He barely remembers his mother. Knows he holds memories of his father in higher regard than the man might have deserved, for in reality, no man is the saint that a child might picture them to be. But his parents had given everything to make sure he would have a good life. Not an easy one, not like they might have imagined once, but Rosinante can't stomach thinking of who he might be now had they not made those sacrifices.
Well. He died anyway, he reminds himself. But that's his fault, not theirs, and he's satisfied all the same.]
no subject
I'd like that. They would like that, if they could listen.
[Probably. He barely remembers his mother. Knows he holds memories of his father in higher regard than the man might have deserved, for in reality, no man is the saint that a child might picture them to be. But his parents had given everything to make sure he would have a good life. Not an easy one, not like they might have imagined once, but Rosinante can't stomach thinking of who he might be now had they not made those sacrifices.
Well. He died anyway, he reminds himself. But that's his fault, not theirs, and he's satisfied all the same.]