[still unsure whether or not they're meant to keep this light] If you're trying to say he would have voluntarily made a good-bye speech if he didn't have to rush off....
[would have offered a seat, but Greg is already sitting down beside them. maybe this is less serious than it had seemed? at least now they don't have to stagger over to the couch. leans back against the wall at the foot of the bunk, one of the two empty ones; Bel's own top bunk is a little high for comfort. ha, so the 'vacation' was a pretext to keep Miles out of trouble? no wonder the Dendarii were the result. he hates being bored--
but Greg's speaking again, distant, reserved, intense.
it answers Bel's first question.
...it's not less serious.
the water does help, as does not having to move; Miles, telling a story like this, would have been bouncing off the walls. but it's taking longer than it should to dredge up the faculties this conversation needs. it seems to come through Bel's drumbeat headache in nightmarish bits and pieces, beads on the wire of Gregor's devastating clarity, shaped by his empty voice and long expressive hands.]
...Hell.
[the water bottle's still half full, but by the middle of the story Bel's forgotten about it. by the end, they're suppressing a nausea that has nothing to do with the hangover. some of this actually isn't news, but the description of death-by-exposure had been a lot easier to stomach with Miles safe and well under Bel's arm, cheerfully explaining how he'd avoided it. there'd been a brief pain in him at Gregor's part, but that had been overshadowed so quickly by the joy of reconciliation, the relief at presenting him with an asset instead of a heartbreak.
this is different, unbearable, still a raw wound all these years later. and Greg's brought it here.
what is this -- why here, why now? what is he looking for? penance? absolution? trust? a Barrayaran oath? hell, Vorpatril had better not have been trying to tell them something--
...no. worse. it's Barrayaran honesty.
(to whom you truly belong, with that smile, with the way it touches his eyes--)
looks down and away for a moment, then glances back up from under lowered lashes. is this how Miles had felt when the full picture hit him, the night before he left them for the first time?]
This might be the most roundabout anyone's asked me never to drunk-text them again.
[it's said with a small smile -- it might also be the opposite of that, but they'll negotiate that later.
looks away] I nearly doomed a woman I love by misreading someone I thought I had to Deal with. You probably know that story. I was twice your age, then. Some of us have the luxury of keeping our idiocies private, more or less, but no one's immune from them. [the still face is tired, older than usual.] And you surely belong to more people than I do....
[forgive the averted eyes; the intensity would mean something very different back in the old sandbox. among Betans, a confession like this would only emerge during hours of intense therapy, and resolving the aftershocks and shock-waves would take hours more; it normally wouldn't be brought up at all.]
If I may. Sir. [sire.] A free Betan can belong to whomever they choose, but I've known whom he belongs to for a long time now. It's only recently I've come to know why.
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timeasmymeasure
no subject
Date: 2016-01-14 05:38 pm (UTC)[would have offered a seat, but Greg is already sitting down beside them. maybe this is less serious than it had seemed? at least now they don't have to stagger over to the couch. leans back against the wall at the foot of the bunk, one of the two empty ones; Bel's own top bunk is a little high for comfort. ha, so the 'vacation' was a pretext to keep Miles out of trouble? no wonder the Dendarii were the result. he hates being bored--
but Greg's speaking again, distant, reserved, intense.
it answers Bel's first question.
...it's not less serious.
the water does help, as does not having to move; Miles, telling a story like this, would have been bouncing off the walls. but it's taking longer than it should to dredge up the faculties this conversation needs. it seems to come through Bel's drumbeat headache in nightmarish bits and pieces, beads on the wire of Gregor's devastating clarity, shaped by his empty voice and long expressive hands.]
...Hell.
[the water bottle's still half full, but by the middle of the story Bel's forgotten about it. by the end, they're suppressing a nausea that has nothing to do with the hangover. some of this actually isn't news, but the description of death-by-exposure had been a lot easier to stomach with Miles safe and well under Bel's arm, cheerfully explaining how he'd avoided it. there'd been a brief pain in him at Gregor's part, but that had been overshadowed so quickly by the joy of reconciliation, the relief at presenting him with an asset instead of a heartbreak.
this is different, unbearable, still a raw wound all these years later. and Greg's brought it here.
what is this -- why here, why now? what is he looking for? penance? absolution? trust? a Barrayaran oath?
hell, Vorpatril had better not have been trying to tell them something--...no. worse. it's Barrayaran honesty.
(to whom you truly belong, with that smile, with the way it touches his eyes--)
looks down and away for a moment, then glances back up from under lowered lashes. is this how Miles had felt when the full picture hit him, the night before he left them for the first time?]
This might be the most roundabout anyone's asked me never to drunk-text them again.
[it's said with a small smile -- it might also be the opposite of that, but they'll negotiate that later.
looks away] I nearly doomed a woman I love by misreading someone I thought I had to Deal with. You probably know that story. I was twice your age, then. Some of us have the luxury of keeping our idiocies private, more or less, but no one's immune from them. [the still face is tired, older than usual.] And you surely belong to more people than I do....
[forgive the averted eyes; the intensity would mean something very different back in the old sandbox. among Betans, a confession like this would only emerge during hours of intense therapy, and resolving the aftershocks and shock-waves would take hours more; it normally wouldn't be brought up at all.]
If I may. Sir. [sire.] A free Betan can belong to whomever they choose, but I've known whom he belongs to for a long time now. It's only recently I've come to know why.