In a dramatic sort of way Lafeyette drapes herself over the couch she’d been sitting on. She’s holding a very fancy handkerchief in one hand and touching her forehead with the other.
“Have I ever told you I love Conor?” Likely, she has. Many times. Many, many times.
“He’s amazing, really. The best person I ever met. I worry I’ll never meet another good person again because they’ll just never compare. If I never had another single friend aside from Conor again I’d —” She pauses, second guessing her words. “Well I’d be sad, but I wouldn’t be as sad as I could be.”
“Worries me terribly, though.” Lafeyette adds with a small frown, sitting up. “He’s… Like I am. I look at Conor and it’s like seeing my reflection all muddled up in a dusty mirror. He’s afraid of monsters, and thus he’ll forever chase them. Not just any, though. He’ll chase the biggest, baddest monster he can find. He’ll appease it. He’ll feel safe.”
“But monsters aren’t monsters for no reason. I’m terrified of what will happen if his plan falls through. Which is hypocritical, I know, but it’s easier to be afraid for him than it is for myself.”
“I’d do anything to keep him by my side. He’s so… Ugh.” Lafeyette flops back again. The couch cushions displace a little. “He’s just such a good friend. I love Conor.”