( Ben's expression flickers like a candle under a breeze; it feels like an accusation, a cutting one, but it's moreso the wording than the intent. this man opposite of him feels intense, but what he says...doesn't burst with anger. Ben swallows, parts his lips to insist otherwise, but the remarks continue.

he leans into the glass, as well — an urge that is difficult to fight, much less question. it feels...pertinent, to mirror the other, not to copy him, but to...sync up with him?

the question is a little heart-wrenching. Ben doesn't even know how to help himself here, but has no issue helping others, which in itself can be a double-edged sword. ) ...Any way that I can. ( his voice is low, as if leant in to tell a secret, because their proximity does feel close enough to say that they are. ) I...help guide people back to themselves, people who...have become captive to other forces. Ones that seek to hurt them — I help cast them out. That's all. ( because Ben has briefly met others, ones touched by spirits and entities, ones who have made pacts. in a symbiotic setting, neither is a victim. one must be strong enough to sustain the connection, that relationship.

but not all demons play fair. in fact, many don't. )

I'd do for anyone else what I would wish could have been done for myself. ( past tense, achingly candid, and Ben doesn't even realize, not when the mirror's surface under his hand almost feels...buoyant. )