She always spoke with such conviction when she insisted these little things of him, which admittedly was a painfully new occurrence and there was a very real part of him that was quickly regretting ever opening up to her in the first place. In the morning, or whenever it occurred to him, he'd decide to blame the grappa of course, a poor choice for drink for a casual night with a semi-close friend. Foolish. Won't be repeated.

It was almost easy to believe her, so earnest was she about his worth. It had been a year here, surrounded by others who saw that same thing within him. He was almost starting to believe it himself.

Almost.

"He's only sought me out the once, to apologize." It was a flimsy argument, he knew, but an argument nonetheless. It wouldn't do to simply give in, though the temptation was great. Life had shown him too many times 'hope' was fleeting, and not something in which he should waste his time...or dash his heart.