[ He doesn't open to her as she had hoped he might. His hands remain balled into fists, and still she holds onto him, an unwelcome hanger-on. She lowers her gaze as he begins to reply, realizing that he will still hold himself separate from her.
Maybe it isn't that he doesn't know what he wants and rather that she hasn't been ready to accept the possibility that what he wants isn't what she wants. It seems obvious, now, and in that way, it leaves her feeling foolish.
And so it goes that when he tells her that not only does he think himself incapable of the task, but that he thinks she could never turn, it strikes her as backhanded. The reassurance soothes some of the wounds she has been nursing for two months now, since they had first joined Hathaway on the Viridian Sea.
He doesn't think she's capable of the kind of evil she's been worried she's slipping into. Maybe because they define that darkness from opposite angles. Maybe because he knows better what it looks like, and isn't afraid of just the shadow of it. That heartens her, puts her at peace with some of her own fears about turning, but —
But it also feels like a strangely final thing to say. Like he's not saying it to reassure her at all, rather, to make it clear that this thing will never be reconciled between them. Neither of them will turn; neither of them will be what the other needs them to be.
She thinks, again, of Keith and his abbreviated explanation of why he and Lance had separated, and she can feel the burn of tears forming behind her eyes again. ]
Then what do you want?
[ She puzzles over it at first, then lifts her eyes to search him. He still won't even look at her. She can feel the bite of frustration rise up and she's sure it isn't his because her anger feels different than his. He doesn't believe he needs saving and he doesn't believe she can be turned and yet he's everywhere. He's everywhere. ]
Tell me. Because I don't understand. What do you want from me? [ maybe before, in the mountain clan, she had believed him, but since then— ] And don't tell me you want to be left alone because you came to me. [ Twice now, at least. He reached out to her when she arrived at the sea clan. He had come here today when he could have iced her out. ]
no subject
Maybe it isn't that he doesn't know what he wants and rather that she hasn't been ready to accept the possibility that what he wants isn't what she wants. It seems obvious, now, and in that way, it leaves her feeling foolish.
And so it goes that when he tells her that not only does he think himself incapable of the task, but that he thinks she could never turn, it strikes her as backhanded. The reassurance soothes some of the wounds she has been nursing for two months now, since they had first joined Hathaway on the Viridian Sea.
He doesn't think she's capable of the kind of evil she's been worried she's slipping into. Maybe because they define that darkness from opposite angles. Maybe because he knows better what it looks like, and isn't afraid of just the shadow of it. That heartens her, puts her at peace with some of her own fears about turning, but —
But it also feels like a strangely final thing to say. Like he's not saying it to reassure her at all, rather, to make it clear that this thing will never be reconciled between them. Neither of them will turn; neither of them will be what the other needs them to be.
She thinks, again, of Keith and his abbreviated explanation of why he and Lance had separated, and she can feel the burn of tears forming behind her eyes again. ]
Then what do you want?
[ She puzzles over it at first, then lifts her eyes to search him. He still won't even look at her. She can feel the bite of frustration rise up and she's sure it isn't his because her anger feels different than his. He doesn't believe he needs saving and he doesn't believe she can be turned and yet he's everywhere. He's everywhere. ]
Tell me. Because I don't understand. What do you want from me? [ maybe before, in the mountain clan, she had believed him, but since then— ] And don't tell me you want to be left alone because you came to me. [ Twice now, at least. He reached out to her when she arrived at the sea clan. He had come here today when he could have iced her out. ]