[koby blinks downwards, doe-eyed in his surprise.] Is it? Really? You don’t – mind it? [there’s hopefulness there, that goodsir means it, that he genuinely doesn’t find koby’s endless chatter annoying at best and maddening at worst. leaning against the ladder, smiling:] All right, I promise.
[and then the subject shifts, and that despair, that horror sweeps out like a wave across the sand, and koby’s expression knits together, tight, mouth grim. he’ll need to explain that too, his ability to read emotion, to sense intent in the shape of someone’s thoughts when they stand too close – or, really, when they aren’t close at all. he’s already committed the exact hue of goodsir’s presence to memory, sure he can trail it through the house. sure he’ll know if it vanishes.
the thought is a heavy one, emphasized by the softly resigned note in goodsir’s voice when he speaks of his own fate, his own destiny. koby’s lost hours and hours of sleep thinking about the life he has to return to, the path he’s started on that he can’t turn back from, even though he cares for those in this house so, so deeply. but at least he has a life to return to.
a pause, then koby’s suddenly pushing the ladder, forcefully, sending it zipping down the stacks with somewhat alarming speed until he stops at another section, plucks a book free, then zooms back with it balanced in his arms.] Try– this one first? [he offers it, hesitant smile, understanding, solemn eyes, reaching down with the heavy encyclopedia of marine biology held out.] I find if I’m reading something serious – like history, or um…world events – it helps to have something fun when you need to take a break?
no subject
[and then the subject shifts, and that despair, that horror sweeps out like a wave across the sand, and koby’s expression knits together, tight, mouth grim. he’ll need to explain that too, his ability to read emotion, to sense intent in the shape of someone’s thoughts when they stand too close – or, really, when they aren’t close at all. he’s already committed the exact hue of goodsir’s presence to memory, sure he can trail it through the house. sure he’ll know if it vanishes.
the thought is a heavy one, emphasized by the softly resigned note in goodsir’s voice when he speaks of his own fate, his own destiny. koby’s lost hours and hours of sleep thinking about the life he has to return to, the path he’s started on that he can’t turn back from, even though he cares for those in this house so, so deeply. but at least he has a life to return to.
a pause, then koby’s suddenly pushing the ladder, forcefully, sending it zipping down the stacks with somewhat alarming speed until he stops at another section, plucks a book free, then zooms back with it balanced in his arms.] Try– this one first? [he offers it, hesitant smile, understanding, solemn eyes, reaching down with the heavy encyclopedia of marine biology held out.] I find if I’m reading something serious – like history, or um…world events – it helps to have something fun when you need to take a break?