He watches as Quentin struggles... and then, suddenly, he remembers something from his extensive study of Spengler's Monster Guide, the one he and Moira had had discussions over even before they'd begun to change, themselves. Fairies can't lie.
"I see."
He sighs, slowly, and returns to his seat, putting his face in his hands. Quentin wants something he can't give - not completely. He stays that way for a long moment, long enough that if Quentin does raise his head, he'll see Norman without that shell of charismatic composure. He can enjoy that little victory, that moment of schadenfreude, before Norman looks up a little, propping his chin in his hands to reply.
"I'm not him, but ... I do remember what you said. And while you might not believe it, I know how it feels to be robbed of something you put your heart, soul, and life's work into. It's how - it's how he came to be, really. That was the start of it."
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"I see."
He sighs, slowly, and returns to his seat, putting his face in his hands. Quentin wants something he can't give - not completely. He stays that way for a long moment, long enough that if Quentin does raise his head, he'll see Norman without that shell of charismatic composure. He can enjoy that little victory, that moment of schadenfreude, before Norman looks up a little, propping his chin in his hands to reply.
"I'm not him, but ... I do remember what you said. And while you might not believe it, I know how it feels to be robbed of something you put your heart, soul, and life's work into. It's how - it's how he came to be, really. That was the start of it."