[ Their fingers lace together as Loki opens his mouth to say something, draws breath, stops. He is tripping, falling over his own feelings for her, about her, and he has no idea where the bottom is.
But she does this, to him.
Maybe he should be used to it by now. ] No. [ As much a reply to that thought as it is a reply to her question.
He needs to pull himself together, here, and give her some kind of a proper answer. ] I thought... hm. [ He swallows, but doesn't break eye contact. ] That the familiarity helped, certainly, and that it didn't matter if that's what it was. All it was. Familiarity.
[ She has told him she's wished to know him, separate and individually from her husband and all their myriad similarities, and yet he's realizing he never fully internalized that concept until now. The idea that it could mean her husband returned and he was more than just a person Alexandrie shared history with?
He'd convinced himself that even if he did nothing wrong, that there was a possibility that was how it was going to shake out in the end. She'd get her husband back and he'd be extraneous, then. ]
Every time you offer me more than I expect and I... You say you've greeted me poorly and all I can think is that you've never done anything in the slightest poorly by my measure.
[ It's close but not an exact mark of what he's thinking and feeling in the moment. Mostly his brain is furiously trying to find the crack in what she's said, the place where he can resettle into his understanding of how he ends up alone anyway.
The misery of this thought process combined with the fact that they're close enough for him to still smell her perfume in the space between them go at war with one another in the line of his shoulders unhappily curling inward. ]
no subject
But she does this, to him.
Maybe he should be used to it by now. ] No. [ As much a reply to that thought as it is a reply to her question.
He needs to pull himself together, here, and give her some kind of a proper answer. ] I thought... hm. [ He swallows, but doesn't break eye contact. ] That the familiarity helped, certainly, and that it didn't matter if that's what it was. All it was. Familiarity.
[ She has told him she's wished to know him, separate and individually from her husband and all their myriad similarities, and yet he's realizing he never fully internalized that concept until now. The idea that it could mean her husband returned and he was more than just a person Alexandrie shared history with?
He'd convinced himself that even if he did nothing wrong, that there was a possibility that was how it was going to shake out in the end. She'd get her husband back and he'd be extraneous, then. ]
Every time you offer me more than I expect and I... You say you've greeted me poorly and all I can think is that you've never done anything in the slightest poorly by my measure.
[ It's close but not an exact mark of what he's thinking and feeling in the moment. Mostly his brain is furiously trying to find the crack in what she's said, the place where he can resettle into his understanding of how he ends up alone anyway.
The misery of this thought process combined with the fact that they're close enough for him to still smell her perfume in the space between them go at war with one another in the line of his shoulders unhappily curling inward. ]