[ Fine, he says, in a tone that tells the opposite, enhanced by the under-running emotional confirmation of being anything but. Anxiety and frustration leap out in spite of active efforts to lean away from drawing notice to them and everything they might highlight.
Right. Of course. It's easy to push past the discomfort of sharing when you're not the one on the edge of vulnerability.
Apprehension makes its way into their cocktail. Not for himself, but for Nate. For the chance of something slipping by unintended. The opening of the bond wasn't a choice so much as the product of good nature and duty and that's emphasized as Nate continues in spite of his palpable discomfort and admirable efforts to cast it aside. The tired, wry humor of his confession would be evident without the bond but with it comes the resignation of knowing the scope of ones own past, the history behind a remark, and as he receives a ripple of little sentiments that speak to memories he can't see Stephen lets his eyes fall closed.
It's a state of mind that's easier thought of than done with a needle threading him closed. But shut in behind his eyelids, Stephen reaches for the calm that once came before a separation of body and mind. Mental quietude falls like a blanket, thick and heavy on one side of the bond, smothering the looped feedback of Nate's experience so at least he doesn't have to contend with an amplification. There are times this has helped. There's a chance it'll make things worse. But better for Stephen to smother his own curiosity than let it hover as an influencing factor in what is already a fraught situation.
They're fresh back from hell, Nate's acting as impromptu field medic, and the last thing he needs on top of that is to feel inspected.
The fact that Stephen could reach out at any time and take any answers he pleased brings one last twist of sharper feeling from him, humor wrapped with disgust, before he quiets that as best he can too.
None of it's perfect. The pain and all that goes with it still play across the bond. But without a mess of thought to bring new colors to the fray he provides a less choppy sea than he had before. ]
no subject
Right. Of course. It's easy to push past the discomfort of sharing when you're not the one on the edge of vulnerability.
Apprehension makes its way into their cocktail. Not for himself, but for Nate. For the chance of something slipping by unintended. The opening of the bond wasn't a choice so much as the product of good nature and duty and that's emphasized as Nate continues in spite of his palpable discomfort and admirable efforts to cast it aside. The tired, wry humor of his confession would be evident without the bond but with it comes the resignation of knowing the scope of ones own past, the history behind a remark, and as he receives a ripple of little sentiments that speak to memories he can't see Stephen lets his eyes fall closed.
It's a state of mind that's easier thought of than done with a needle threading him closed. But shut in behind his eyelids, Stephen reaches for the calm that once came before a separation of body and mind. Mental quietude falls like a blanket, thick and heavy on one side of the bond, smothering the looped feedback of Nate's experience so at least he doesn't have to contend with an amplification. There are times this has helped. There's a chance it'll make things worse. But better for Stephen to smother his own curiosity than let it hover as an influencing factor in what is already a fraught situation.
They're fresh back from hell, Nate's acting as impromptu field medic, and the last thing he needs on top of that is to feel inspected.
The fact that Stephen could reach out at any time and take any answers he pleased brings one last twist of sharper feeling from him, humor wrapped with disgust, before he quiets that as best he can too.
None of it's perfect. The pain and all that goes with it still play across the bond. But without a mess of thought to bring new colors to the fray he provides a less choppy sea than he had before. ]
I don't doubt it for a second.