He had returned his eyes to hers and they did not waver as Evie made her own priorities clear. Ones that he had understood from the moment she had shared news of her pregnancy with him, and even before. Family would always come before friends, regardless of whether one had flukes or feet, and he accepted her confession with the smallest tilt of his head that acknowledged it without judgment or surprise.
But the accusation that followed drew a reaction from that stoic sorrow. He drew in a deep breath, sudden and swift. His chin tilted up, though his gaze remained on hers, and for once he did interrupt. "Is that how you saw it?" His low voice was quiet and his tone carefully even, betraying nothing of his own pain at the revelation. It had not truly occurred to him that of all the people in that room, Evie would be the one to misunderstand his actions in removing Maea so deeply.
It made the offered hand a moment later a bittersweet bridge. The former-Mer looked from Evie's wounded smile to the empty fingers and back again, emerald gaze searching her own for a long moment before he finally released the sturdy tea mug with one hand. For all his size and customary deliberation he moved with a hesitance that was rare for him. His fingertips came to rest lightly on her own, presuming no more than that when there was so very much to rebuild between them. "I have missed you, my friend," he said softly, the confession nearly the same as that which he had uttered upon seeing her at the start. The tension in his chest began to slowly unravel as he took a slower, deeper breath. "Even if we must start from the beginning again." And perhaps what they built from the sand could never be the same as what had been washed away once. But at least it would not be for lack of trying.
But the accusation that followed drew a reaction from that stoic sorrow. He drew in a deep breath, sudden and swift. His chin tilted up, though his gaze remained on hers, and for once he did interrupt. "Is that how you saw it?" His low voice was quiet and his tone carefully even, betraying nothing of his own pain at the revelation. It had not truly occurred to him that of all the people in that room, Evie would be the one to misunderstand his actions in removing Maea so deeply.
It made the offered hand a moment later a bittersweet bridge. The former-Mer looked from Evie's wounded smile to the empty fingers and back again, emerald gaze searching her own for a long moment before he finally released the sturdy tea mug with one hand. For all his size and customary deliberation he moved with a hesitance that was rare for him. His fingertips came to rest lightly on her own, presuming no more than that when there was so very much to rebuild between them. "I have missed you, my friend," he said softly, the confession nearly the same as that which he had uttered upon seeing her at the start. The tension in his chest began to slowly unravel as he took a slower, deeper breath. "Even if we must start from the beginning again." And perhaps what they built from the sand could never be the same as what had been washed away once. But at least it would not be for lack of trying.
