Beila gives Dao space. He is extremely right that she's not the best person to be sad about his dead serial killer friend with and that seems to be his principal occupation, so - space.
"Well. I guess that depends," he says. "If this is the kind of thing where I need to figure out how to explain how my brain works or you'll break up with me, then it seems like a good idea for me to know that."
"I mean, I don't want to phrase it as an ultimatum like that, that would be awful, I'm just - wondering if - this is it, this is the level of romantic intimacy the two of us are capable of."
"I don't really know that either. I don't have, like, a big plan for how my life is supposed to go. I don't know where I want to be in ten years, besides out of my dad's house and, like, alive and not a serial killer."
"Not actually that hard. Like... the thing that goes wrong when I think the wrong way about it isn't that I start turning into a serial killer, it's that I start feeling really scared that I might, and those are really different things."
"So like... there's kind of not enough there there for me to even say 'we're not compatible', it's not like you want to move to Ember Island or devote your life to protesting various monarchies or something I couldn't be attached to like that, but that's... kind of not helping? Not incompatible but not present enough to be compatible in a more active sense."
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"Probably shouldn't've said that out loud."
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"Okay, side question, how actually difficult is not being a serial killer for you."
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"Not actually that hard. Like... the thing that goes wrong when I think the wrong way about it isn't that I start turning into a serial killer, it's that I start feeling really scared that I might, and those are really different things."
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