i can't stop thinking about assad saying the thing armand wants most is "purity... or perfection". that's such a good articulation of it. of course he does. of course he sees the whole house in ruins around him the moment he notices a crack in the paint. it's the same kind of impulse that makes him so resistant to change; armand has experienced even the illusion of security to be so unspeakably fragile it must be defended at all costs. he throws everything he has into keeping things as they are because the world is too volatile to risk trying for better. change for armand has always meant that these tattered scraps of safety and comfort he's been clinging to with white knuckles are going to be torn away from him as easily as taking a stuffed animal from the arms of a child.
then, because the world bends toward ruin and he's the only one trying to stop it, he's so so deeply lonely, as well as actively resentful. why is it always his responsibility to protect everyone from the next wave of horrors just beyond the horizon? even more than that, he's exhausted. just unfathomably tired. if things were pure, if they were perfect, maybe then he could rest. but until then he's always going to be a sailor desperately shoveling water out of a sinking ship, using everything in him to delay the inevitable for just one more day, even one more hour. he sees everything on fast forward to the worst possible version of its future. claudia was suffering so she would go mad. he lost louis so he will never find anything better. he hurt daniel so he has broken him.
if only he was good enough at scouring his life for the tiny fissures that will become disastrous threats. surely one day, if he dedicates his single-minded focus to the task, he will finally patch up all the cracks. he will be perfect and he will do it for someone who is strong enough to keep him and their lives will be impervious to ruin. he'll make sure of it.
even if it means sealing himself inside. even if he suffocates.
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