Myr cannot see how L leans away from him but he can feel how there is something disjoint in their usual easy wordless communication, that undergirding of implication and inference that used to flow between them. Now there's something missing from it and it is obvious in how he cannot understand the turn this has taken. Was L's gratitude an offer meant to placate him? Did his Bonded think him angry, or ready to send him away for weeks again?
There has always been an element of friction in their Bond--in their friendship preceding it--because they took a creative delight in their differences, in pulling apart opposite sides of an issue. They disagreed, but constructively, and when it mattered most they could work as two parts of the same whole. There was a trust, an ease there that's suddenly not, and Myr feels its absence suddenly and acutely like the ground's dropped from under him.
Though it should not be so much of a surprise, because he'd done this himself, hadn't he? He'd put a space between them because he needed it (they both needed it) after reliving that memory. That he has not made the use of it he'd intended before finding it necessary to return to his Witch's side... That he may shatter what they've built here and now, where it's weakest, because of that lack of preparation...]
Linden, I--
[He starts, stops, searching for the words he needs with aching slowness. (Breathe, mage, breathe. Control yourself. Maker grant me wisdom, clarity.)]
We're not on the same page here, I think. [And it galls him a little to admit, because he feels he's failed his more-brilliant Bonded in not keeping up.]
no subject
Myr cannot see how L leans away from him but he can feel how there is something disjoint in their usual easy wordless communication, that undergirding of implication and inference that used to flow between them. Now there's something missing from it and it is obvious in how he cannot understand the turn this has taken. Was L's gratitude an offer meant to placate him? Did his Bonded think him angry, or ready to send him away for weeks again?
There has always been an element of friction in their Bond--in their friendship preceding it--because they took a creative delight in their differences, in pulling apart opposite sides of an issue. They disagreed, but constructively, and when it mattered most they could work as two parts of the same whole. There was a trust, an ease there that's suddenly not, and Myr feels its absence suddenly and acutely like the ground's dropped from under him.
Though it should not be so much of a surprise, because he'd done this himself, hadn't he? He'd put a space between them because he needed it (they both needed it) after reliving that memory. That he has not made the use of it he'd intended before finding it necessary to return to his Witch's side... That he may shatter what they've built here and now, where it's weakest, because of that lack of preparation...]
Linden, I--
[He starts, stops, searching for the words he needs with aching slowness. (Breathe, mage, breathe. Control yourself. Maker grant me wisdom, clarity.)]
We're not on the same page here, I think. [And it galls him a little to admit, because he feels he's failed his more-brilliant Bonded in not keeping up.]
What did you think I wanted to talk to you about?