He didn't expect her to be so... emotional about this. Or for her to have her own anger about this. She was the one who had picked this, and she was angry about him reacting to it? What the kark?!
He spun around and looked at her with a piercing gaze as she was getting ready to leave. He wanted to slap the door controls, but he was still thinking clearly enough to understand the potential implications of such an action.
What?! he asked, not quite shouting. He didn't care who outside the ship heard at this point. No, no, no, no, you don't get to throw that back in my face, he said. You just sat there and told me that you didn't want to belong to anyone. That I can't have you and now it's "oh you kind of can," he said. Whether she would decide the fire in his eyes was better than emptiness was up for debate, but he overrode the urge he had to march over closer to her unless she started to actually walk away. He knew there was a part of her that was afraid of him. He could feel it even now, and he didn't want it to grow.
And while we're on the topic of me "controlling you," he said, referring to what she'd said about him. I've never even had a chance with you, have I? You've already put me into a box with the psychopaths because of what I was born. You already decided what you thought about me regardless of what I've ever done or said. I've never done anything to you, he said. Well, maybe that wasn't true, but the whole drugging thing had been... before he fully understood. And that hadn't been him who had drugged her. He'd never once abused his powers with her, he meant.
The one thing that resounded in his mind were her words about not regretting it or wanting to change it. They pierced through the anger and began to work on him. He put his hands against his face, steepled over his nose as he took a deep breath. She would have seen him do this before when calming himself down. It was a tic when he was frustrated, and when he spoke again his voice was softer.
Trys... he didn't even know what to say to her. Half of what he'd said up until this point probably didn't even make sense, but it was spoken in his same impulsive fashion.
What do you want from me? he finally asked, only now closing the distance between the two of them. The flash of anger that had been there seemed to have subsided ever so slightly, but the pain was still present. She was baffling and insanely frustrating at times, but he also knew that he liked himself better when she was in his life. He liked being around her. There was... something there that was real.
He spun around and looked at her with a piercing gaze as she was getting ready to leave. He wanted to slap the door controls, but he was still thinking clearly enough to understand the potential implications of such an action.
What?! he asked, not quite shouting. He didn't care who outside the ship heard at this point. No, no, no, no, you don't get to throw that back in my face, he said. You just sat there and told me that you didn't want to belong to anyone. That I can't have you and now it's "oh you kind of can," he said. Whether she would decide the fire in his eyes was better than emptiness was up for debate, but he overrode the urge he had to march over closer to her unless she started to actually walk away. He knew there was a part of her that was afraid of him. He could feel it even now, and he didn't want it to grow.
And while we're on the topic of me "controlling you," he said, referring to what she'd said about him. I've never even had a chance with you, have I? You've already put me into a box with the psychopaths because of what I was born. You already decided what you thought about me regardless of what I've ever done or said. I've never done anything to you, he said. Well, maybe that wasn't true, but the whole drugging thing had been... before he fully understood. And that hadn't been him who had drugged her. He'd never once abused his powers with her, he meant.
The one thing that resounded in his mind were her words about not regretting it or wanting to change it. They pierced through the anger and began to work on him. He put his hands against his face, steepled over his nose as he took a deep breath. She would have seen him do this before when calming himself down. It was a tic when he was frustrated, and when he spoke again his voice was softer.
Trys... he didn't even know what to say to her. Half of what he'd said up until this point probably didn't even make sense, but it was spoken in his same impulsive fashion.
What do you want from me? he finally asked, only now closing the distance between the two of them. The flash of anger that had been there seemed to have subsided ever so slightly, but the pain was still present. She was baffling and insanely frustrating at times, but he also knew that he liked himself better when she was in his life. He liked being around her. There was... something there that was real.