She returned his advice back to him, just as true and timely, and her crooked smile teased the ghost of one from him as he nodded acknowledgment of her point, a pulse of agreement warming the Attuned bond. "Well, I've only been human for less than two years," he said softly, trying to tease a little, but watching her face closely to see her reaction. "There's a bit of a learning curve to it." Had he told her this before? There had always been so much to do, to prepare for, to recover from... when was the last time they really sat and talked when it didn't involve hurt feelings and anger?
Maybe that was why they'd come to this point, at the heart of it all. They had worked side-by-side for so long, and yet lost touch with each other along the way.
"You're... you're right, though. When I lead people into danger, I feel like it's my duty to protect them." He sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck ruefully. "Remi and I talked about it a little, once. About the power that we have being a weight as much as a gift. About the expectations people place on us for it... and that we place on ourselves." He looked up at her, knowing that of all people, Amalia would know. It had nothing to do with being a hybrid and everything to do with the weight of social responsibilities and expectations, and of their own. But he had made assumptions before that had been painfully incorrect, so this time he asked, and tried to listen to her reply. "Do you ever feel like that, too?"
He was quiet for a long time as she gave him honesty and he felt some of it twine around how he felt about her, too. He let his own gaze drop to Isuma's soft, purring form as he let the words soak in. They made sense, in a way that he'd never fully articulated to himself before, and though he wanted to protest some of them he swallowed it back. It was how Amalia saw his perception of her, and that mattered as much as how he thought he saw her. You are special to me, he thought back at last. But I never wanted to put that pressure on you. I didn't realize what a pedestal I had put you on. I'm sorry, Ama, for not seeing it sooner. He drew in a breath then found a smile for her, small and wry but warm. Tell me, please. How do you see yourself? What parts of you have I been blind to?
Maybe that was why they'd come to this point, at the heart of it all. They had worked side-by-side for so long, and yet lost touch with each other along the way.
"You're... you're right, though. When I lead people into danger, I feel like it's my duty to protect them." He sighed, reaching up to rub the back of his neck ruefully. "Remi and I talked about it a little, once. About the power that we have being a weight as much as a gift. About the expectations people place on us for it... and that we place on ourselves." He looked up at her, knowing that of all people, Amalia would know. It had nothing to do with being a hybrid and everything to do with the weight of social responsibilities and expectations, and of their own. But he had made assumptions before that had been painfully incorrect, so this time he asked, and tried to listen to her reply. "Do you ever feel like that, too?"
He was quiet for a long time as she gave him honesty and he felt some of it twine around how he felt about her, too. He let his own gaze drop to Isuma's soft, purring form as he let the words soak in. They made sense, in a way that he'd never fully articulated to himself before, and though he wanted to protest some of them he swallowed it back. It was how Amalia saw his perception of her, and that mattered as much as how he thought he saw her. You are special to me, he thought back at last. But I never wanted to put that pressure on you. I didn't realize what a pedestal I had put you on. I'm sorry, Ama, for not seeing it sooner. He drew in a breath then found a smile for her, small and wry but warm. Tell me, please. How do you see yourself? What parts of you have I been blind to?
