[In some ways, Lila is easy to read. The lights dim, even though he's only one floor up and a couple doors down. He glances upwards, at the frosted glass sconce on his wall, and then back down at his laptop. He pauses, pressing his hands to his face and smooths fingers—both feeling and not—over his cheeks and through his fleshy hair.
Deep breath. Fingers on the keys.]
It's hard to explain, I like people for who they are... and I've liked multiple people in the past before, too.
It... it feels like I have too much love to give, maybe? I like different things about different people... and the reason I like you is different from the reason I like someone else...
[Ugh. This is hard. He's been thinking a lot about it, though.]
It doesn't mean I like you any less, but... not telling you about it would probably make you hate me, right?
<MrBrightside>
Deep breath. Fingers on the keys.]
It's hard to explain, I like people for who they are... and I've liked multiple people in the past before, too.
It... it feels like I have too much love to give, maybe? I like different things about different people... and the reason I like you is different from the reason I like someone else...
[Ugh. This is hard. He's been thinking a lot about it, though.]
It doesn't mean I like you any less, but... not telling you about it would probably make you hate me, right?