The Fateful Heart

Evaline thought through this carefully. "It's not about the expressions or how you say things," she said, slowly at first. "It's about how you let out emotions. How can you live through life without having a natural release of your feelings?"

“You’re assuming that I don’t,” James countered. “Maybe it’s just not where everyone can hear and see.”

Evaline watched him carefully. "I'm listening," she said, waiting for him to elaborate.

“I’ve told you before that one of the things I do to pass the time is write. Well, turns out, it’s also a great way to express things between me-“ he pointed at himself. “And myself.” He jabbed his finger at himself again.

Evaline raised a brow, remembering when she had quickly flipped through his journal and seen blurs of text. Of course, James didn't know she had done that. It wasn't like she actually read anything, though.

"What do you write about?" she asked.

“Things that happen, things I’m feeling, private things.”

So, a diary. Evaline didn't imagine James to be so soft through written text.

"Say you didn't have a journal," she said. "What would you do then?"

James looked off into the distance for a moment in thought, and then looked back to Evaline.

“If that was the case,” James said. “Then I might just go mad.”

As the last word left his mouth, his eyes widened just a little bit, for effect, before returning to normal.

This time, Evaline didn't have a reaction to his humored response. She stared at him with steely eyes.

"No, seriously," she said sternly. "What do you do?"

James squinted and looked back at her. He hummed, and tilted his head to the side.

“Are you concerned for me?”

Evaline didn't break eye contact. "Maybe I am. Would that change your answer?"

James didn’t break eye contact either.

“Which one?”

There was a brief hesitation before Evaline responded, but her expression was still unreadable, and she didn't look away.

"You're a smart guy. What do you think?"

James held her gaze, but it was growing tiring.

For someone so often closed off herself, it was blatantly hypocritical of her to insinuate that, if he didn't have a journal, he would be forced to process his emotions with her. At least, that was what all of this seemed to be leading to.

Unless she genuinely was concerned about what he'd do when she was gone, and if he lost his journal, and if it really was just him, wandering alone in the wilderness.

If that was the case, and Elliot was still with him, then he'd talk to his horse, as insane as that sounded. He practically did that already, for the brief moments Evaline was absent or out of earshot.

So what would he do if he was wholly alone with no resources?

Well, he meant it. He'd probably go mad. Eventually. If not mad, well...

"I guess it all just stays in my head, then," he finally said quietly, finally tearing his eyes away with an unfocused stare at the ground.

Evaline held her gaze, only dropping it when James surrendered first.

It'd stay in his head, he said.

She felt her body tense a little at his response, which prompted her to fully relax her posture as she realized she had continually grown tenser throughout the conversation. She straightened her legs and leaned back on one hand, tilting her head up to look at the stars.

"Good to know," she said quietly.