The universe is, in fact, kind to Luther in this way.

Even as Allison half-rolls her eyes, Luther stumbles into sputtering about, implying she might not make it. It touches down, smarts a here-and-then-gone mark, errently wondering if he finds her choices as stupid as their father does. Beneath what she could be accomplishing day in and day out as The Rumor and not a real person with her own wants and dreams.

But Luther is tripping on himself,
and Luther wouldn't be subtle if he did believe it.

The only subtle bones in Number One's body exist behind the mask.
Luther, under take off the mask when you talk to me is floundering uncertainties.
Always trying to figure out what to make of anything not defined by their father's opinion.

It's endearing as it is a little too obviously still present, that still so very sheltered part of him, untouched, unchanged, unlearned, or broken by this beautiful, but also ruthless, real world outside the gates of the Academy. Allison fixes him with a raise of eyebrows and the slant of her mouth:

"Mmmh. You want to dig that hole any deeper before I let you into my place?"