The few exchanges he's had with Rogers have all been surreal, but this may be the most dreamlike of all, the two of them discussing Barnes as a third party while the images being described look exactly like the man holding the sketchbook, apart from the smile. There is a gulf of distance in that easy curve of lips.
Rogers' assertion he can easily believe; Barnes was always smiling. He himself,
(arm slung across skinny shoulders, head thrown back, laughing at the blue blue sky above sharp-edged buildings)
he cannot remember ever having smiled.
Gently, he flips another page. Barnes could never hold still, and yet Rogers sketched more of him than anything else.
Sometimes, he feels Barnes' legacy so acutely he thinks he could actually be physically bowed by it, as if it were a tangible weight upon his otherwise strong shoulders. There are things which he remembers and things which he knows, and he will never be able to live up to that legacy, not for as long as he lives. When he realized that he wanted to, it surprised him a little.
Closing the book, he carefully passes it back with a nod.
no subject
Rogers' assertion he can easily believe; Barnes was always smiling. He himself,
(arm slung across skinny shoulders, head thrown back, laughing at the blue blue sky above sharp-edged buildings)
he cannot remember ever having smiled.
Gently, he flips another page. Barnes could never hold still, and yet Rogers sketched more of him than anything else.
Sometimes, he feels Barnes' legacy so acutely he thinks he could actually be physically bowed by it, as if it were a tangible weight upon his otherwise strong shoulders. There are things which he remembers and things which he knows, and he will never be able to live up to that legacy, not for as long as he lives. When he realized that he wanted to, it surprised him a little.
Closing the book, he carefully passes it back with a nod.