[On the other side, thankfully unseen by the mage, Stark can only pull away from the Forge. He's leaning back in his chair, something shuddering at his core. Not disgust, nothing remotely close to that. No regret for anything done or said or not done.
He's not sure what it is. For the moment, he only hears himself breathe, the whirr of the Forge a subtle reminder that there's still someone there on the other side, waiting.
And it's here that he realizes he can't do what comes natural and think only of himself. His blunt lack of experience with love, with any form of devotion other than what he had with Pepper. But that was years of a bizarre sort of companionship-- a strictly business cooperative that, over time, became something else. Something that, even when he was taken from home, he had yet to really understand. Maybe that was love, too. He'd never said it to her. Never said it to anyone. Maybe Mom. That wasn't quite the same though, was it?
Part of him can't adjust to the fact that it had hardly been a year yet of knowing the mage. Far less time in any sort of relationship. That part is what's invoking a headache.
The other part is what's threatening to forcibly shove his heart out through his ribcage. The part that's reminding him none-too-gently that together, they've been through more than anyone he knows back home, and all in a matter of months. Mere months. He's seen depths and layers to someone he hadn't expected. Allowed more of himself to be put out there than he'd ever intended.
And at any time, it could all be snuffed out. Next week. Tomorrow.
Eight minutes from now.]
Same.
[It sounds stupid, and he immediately hates the fact that he can't retract it in favour of something less... well. Yeah. Stupid.]
... I mean... I mean I feel the same way. Or I'm pretty sure I do. It's not something I'm-- [a pause, an exhale] I don't know how to say it.
[and a distinctly nervous laugh]
You know what I'm trying to say back, right? I just... I...
voice
Date: 2013-02-27 09:10 am (UTC)He's not sure what it is. For the moment, he only hears himself breathe, the whirr of the Forge a subtle reminder that there's still someone there on the other side, waiting.
And it's here that he realizes he can't do what comes natural and think only of himself. His blunt lack of experience with love, with any form of devotion other than what he had with Pepper. But that was years of a bizarre sort of companionship-- a strictly business cooperative that, over time, became something else. Something that, even when he was taken from home, he had yet to really understand. Maybe that was love, too. He'd never said it to her. Never said it to anyone. Maybe Mom. That wasn't quite the same though, was it?
Part of him can't adjust to the fact that it had hardly been a year yet of knowing the mage. Far less time in any sort of relationship. That part is what's invoking a headache.
The other part is what's threatening to forcibly shove his heart out through his ribcage. The part that's reminding him none-too-gently that together, they've been through more than anyone he knows back home, and all in a matter of months. Mere months. He's seen depths and layers to someone he hadn't expected. Allowed more of himself to be put out there than he'd ever intended.
And at any time, it could all be snuffed out. Next week. Tomorrow.
Eight minutes from now.]
Same.
[It sounds stupid, and he immediately hates the fact that he can't retract it in favour of something less... well. Yeah. Stupid.]
... I mean... I mean I feel the same way. Or I'm pretty sure I do. It's not something I'm-- [a pause, an exhale] I don't know how to say it.
[and a distinctly nervous laugh]
You know what I'm trying to say back, right? I just... I...
... dammit, Anders.