[ there is a mental sigh, a bit deflating as a feeling of resignation comes over him. Of course this person is a Sunday that the Sunday Aventurine knows could never offer to show the outside world. He's been traveling with the Astral Express, as well.

Aventurine isn't forgiving, but to muster the negativity he wants to feel towards Sunday (especially after their encounter in the dream, because if he can firmly establish he still hates him, the dream doesn't have anything complicated that he may need to consider) feels so... exhausting.

And Aventurine is tired. The tiredness for a moment ripples over through their connection like a rising tide..

He's so damn tired. If he's honest with himself, despite saying he doesn't want to talk about the dream and what occurred in it, and is making a good show of it, a thought crumpled and distorted seeps out like trying to smooth out crushed paper.

( If the dream had only been what happened with you, it really wouldn't have been so bad. So... I shouldn't take it out you, either. ) ]

...Just... can't you do that tomorrow, then? You just got here after having such an awful experience in that dreamscape. At least let me feel like I was useful and able to give you and the others a little reprieve from this hell by not making it necessary to scavenge for scraps immediately while also dealing with the shock of this situation.