[ It truly is becoming increasingly difficult to tell what's his own thought (and subsequently things like his own worry and fear and desire) and what isn't. This black-ish thing between them is different from any of the others, but parts of what those other threads involve do bleed into one another. He can't feel Wynonna's emotions, but he can feel what emotions her thoughts conjure up in him. It's some feedback loop of thought turning to sensation, and the really bizarre thing is just how much the two of them have in common, up under the surface.
He can perceive her, fighting back against her own thoughts, like she's trying to hide them from him. Cutting off parts and pieces, shoving them down. Little blips come through. Out of all the strings, this one might just be the most unfair to those involved, the most invasive. He's suddenly aware of some of the things he needs to keep tightly locked away, things not even Vasya knows about.
Coming up on her cabin is a welcomed distraction. He, too, stares pointedly at her windows and door and the chimney and anything else he can push his concentration onto. But then she asks what she does, and his mind reacts before the rest of him can, affirming it too fast. Yes, and that's what's so fucking scary. It'd be easier if Vasiliy was something he could chase, but never catch. Or even better — if he were the thing being chased. People try to touch him but they never quite can, and he's supposed to be happy that way. He's not supposed to turn around and reach out his hand, willingly, for someone to grasp.
He takes a few moments before verbally replying, clomping up into the door and turning to close it. Shudders continue to ripple through him, and he lifts his gloved hands from his pockets so he can rub them brusquely together, grateful to be inside and no longer breathing in the crisp, cold, painful air that agitates his condition. ]
He does reciprocate it. [ He finally says with a sigh that sounds more dejected than it probably should, and it's another weird dose of honesty from him. It's all so strange to say aloud. He turns, a little embarrassed now as he offers a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and falls too fast. ]
That's why I'm here with you instead. [ Why he'd stepped away for just a few moments (run away). Konstantin sighs again, and moves slowly towards the fire she's starting up. ]
The thing is, I'm not really the dating type. I prefer to keep my options open. [ On another day he might wink at her (but perhaps fortunately, doesn't even have the gusto to do that... It's better this way).
His eyes do look the woman over, but thoughtfully. ]
no subject
He can perceive her, fighting back against her own thoughts, like she's trying to hide them from him. Cutting off parts and pieces, shoving them down. Little blips come through. Out of all the strings, this one might just be the most unfair to those involved, the most invasive. He's suddenly aware of some of the things he needs to keep tightly locked away, things not even Vasya knows about.
Coming up on her cabin is a welcomed distraction. He, too, stares pointedly at her windows and door and the chimney and anything else he can push his concentration onto. But then she asks what she does, and his mind reacts before the rest of him can, affirming it too fast. Yes, and that's what's so fucking scary. It'd be easier if Vasiliy was something he could chase, but never catch. Or even better — if he were the thing being chased. People try to touch him but they never quite can, and he's supposed to be happy that way. He's not supposed to turn around and reach out his hand, willingly, for someone to grasp.
He takes a few moments before verbally replying, clomping up into the door and turning to close it. Shudders continue to ripple through him, and he lifts his gloved hands from his pockets so he can rub them brusquely together, grateful to be inside and no longer breathing in the crisp, cold, painful air that agitates his condition. ]
He does reciprocate it. [ He finally says with a sigh that sounds more dejected than it probably should, and it's another weird dose of honesty from him. It's all so strange to say aloud. He turns, a little embarrassed now as he offers a smile that doesn't reach his eyes, and falls too fast. ]
That's why I'm here with you instead. [ Why he'd stepped away for just a few moments (run away). Konstantin sighs again, and moves slowly towards the fire she's starting up. ]
The thing is, I'm not really the dating type. I prefer to keep my options open. [ On another day he might wink at her (but perhaps fortunately, doesn't even have the gusto to do that... It's better this way).
His eyes do look the woman over, but thoughtfully. ]
I'm guessing you do, too.