((I’m not a 13, but here’s something from flawed–by–design)) Tracey hesitated before sitting down next to the man. “Look,” she said after taking a breath. “You don’t know me, and I don’t know you. But I know what it looks like when someone’s going through some serious shit. I’ve been through some shit, it sucks. Is there something a totally anonymous person you’ll never see again can do to help?”

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There’s a pregnant pause during which the Master clearly struggles to collect the shards of his temper.  

       “You know. Ordinarily. I’d be … unkindly weaponizing your flaws, to turn the focus of the conversation away from my own weaknesses … and … hurting you in order to rebuff your kindness.  But.”

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      “There is someone I want to make … proud of me. So.  I’ll just. Quietly ask you to go.”  

“How do relationships even work???” for flawed–by–design

Ask my muse for romantic advice.

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“Well I only know second-hand, really, beyond the single meaningful connection i’ve made all my long life.  It’s said that the key to comprehending a successful relationship, romantic or platonic, put in scientific terms, is symbiosis.  You simply … . balance the amount that you give and take, and you try to maintain focus on the needs of the other party.  And if they undergo a particularly difficult period in their life, you step oop to take on some additional burdens.  Somehow I always manage to muck it up anyway, I think, because I’m too jealous, too anxious to impress, and too … . fearful of being only a destructive force, so in order to not be a failure in the eyes of the person I hold in highest esteem, I throw myself full-force into being an arsehole.  And pretend that that’s all I was aiming to do, to begin with.”

A pause, and a crooked, tired smile.

“Or maybe I am just a dick.”