[ He's staring at the wall on the other side of the room, but when she shifts a little, he glances down. And there's her hand, hovering over his.
Taking it's a stupid idea. He's awash in old loneliness he doesn't want to talk about, a faint (faint) sense of shame, the weird nostalgia of the whole thing, whatever the desire to kiss Kyna manifests itself as when she touches him--but hell, he's never going to kiss her. He might as well wrap his fingers around hers. ]
Don't be sorry. [ His voice is a little quieter, but there's still some cheer to it. ] S'a pretty good story.
Taking it's a stupid idea. He's awash in old loneliness he doesn't want to talk about, a faint (faint) sense of shame, the weird nostalgia of the whole thing, whatever the desire to kiss Kyna manifests itself as when she touches him--but hell, he's never going to kiss her. He might as well wrap his fingers around hers. ]
Don't be sorry. [ His voice is a little quieter, but there's still some cheer to it. ] S'a pretty good story.
[ He'd rather just ignore them, given the choice. It's a hell of a lot less embarrassing than acknowledging them. You're here and I'm here and we're both pretending I don't look at you like a ninth-grader dying of infatuation--and for whatever reason, she just tolerates it. ]
It...ain't really a good story. [ What little shame he has sort of hiccups through his skin, along with something stubborn and sad all at once, an amorphous not-quite-grief. ] Tell you another time, maybe.
It...ain't really a good story. [ What little shame he has sort of hiccups through his skin, along with something stubborn and sad all at once, an amorphous not-quite-grief. ] Tell you another time, maybe.
Easy for you to say.
[ He's joking, an amused note in his voice that doesn't really come through under the mix of tension and--hell, what is that, guilt? grief?--that Kyna gets. Telling her means she'll never look at him without seeing possible fratricide again. Maybe he'd feel better, someone besides Nathan knowing--but saying it out loud risks a hell of a lot more than he's ready to lose.
He's too selfish for this shit, and he can't lie his way through it with Kyna's hand in his. ]
Maybe I'll tell you sometime.
[ He's joking, an amused note in his voice that doesn't really come through under the mix of tension and--hell, what is that, guilt? grief?--that Kyna gets. Telling her means she'll never look at him without seeing possible fratricide again. Maybe he'd feel better, someone besides Nathan knowing--but saying it out loud risks a hell of a lot more than he's ready to lose.
He's too selfish for this shit, and he can't lie his way through it with Kyna's hand in his. ]
Maybe I'll tell you sometime.
[ Sam squeezes her hand and lets go, reaching up to push his hair back from his face. ]
I know.
[ He doesn't, as it happens, and he doesn't want her to feel that coming though his palm--but he's been looking down at her, so maybe his hair needs to be pushed back, too. It's the best cover he's got at hand, anyway. ]
When I'm ready to go to confession, I'll call you up.
[ A super trustworthy statement, considering that she's experienced the cognitive dissonance of what he says and what he feels, but maybe he's telling her the truth.
Maybe. ]
I know.
[ He doesn't, as it happens, and he doesn't want her to feel that coming though his palm--but he's been looking down at her, so maybe his hair needs to be pushed back, too. It's the best cover he's got at hand, anyway. ]
When I'm ready to go to confession, I'll call you up.
[ A super trustworthy statement, considering that she's experienced the cognitive dissonance of what he says and what he feels, but maybe he's telling her the truth.
Maybe. ]
Not a bad idea.
[ Though the teasing grin he flashes her is a little too wolfish for Hail Marys. ]
You wanna assign me penance for my sins, be my guest.
[ Though the teasing grin he flashes her is a little too wolfish for Hail Marys. ]
You wanna assign me penance for my sins, be my guest.
God, no.
[ Though, maybe? Goddamn, he's glad he's not still holding her hand. ]
I do not have a "prayer kink."
[ Though, maybe? Goddamn, he's glad he's not still holding her hand. ]
I do not have a "prayer kink."
What is that, sixth commandment? Eighth?
[ See, who wouldn't be half in love with a girl who smiles like that? ]
What're you gonna do about it?
[ See, who wouldn't be half in love with a girl who smiles like that? ]
What're you gonna do about it?
Shocked I can even touch you without my hands burning up. [ Clearly teasing. ] You got off easy, Ky.
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