Enoch straightens instinctively. Crysta is right to be offended; he'd spoken without thinking, but they both know that being happy is a weakness. The mark of a simple mind who doesn't realise that the moment you become complacent is exactly the moment you're most at risk of losing everything you've worked for.
He knows she's telling the truth. He's laughed more, argued less, relaxed rules he used to hold as absolute, and he feels like an idiot for it. Accepting happiness is a personal failure—or a professional one, essentially the same thing to him. What has he accomplished this year that he should feel happy with his life?
He won't apologise. That would be even worse. But he does look away, which is tantamount to admitting defeat. "It's a temporary state," Enoch says. True, according to his powers, but there's an ache at the thought. He doesn't want it to end for Crysta. She deserves to enjoy the moment.
DRY BAR: Enoch & Crysta
He knows she's telling the truth. He's laughed more, argued less, relaxed rules he used to hold as absolute, and he feels like an idiot for it. Accepting happiness is a personal failure—or a professional one, essentially the same thing to him. What has he accomplished this year that he should feel happy with his life?
He won't apologise. That would be even worse. But he does look away, which is tantamount to admitting defeat. "It's a temporary state," Enoch says. True, according to his powers, but there's an ache at the thought. He doesn't want it to end for Crysta. She deserves to enjoy the moment.