[It is a mark of how much he has gotten used to you and your presence that your being around isn't bothering him at all. What is bothering him, however, as he absently watches the things on the tables shift and move, is how uncharacteristically awkward you are in your silence. You are you, after all. The only thing you do better than silence, for him, is sweet, sweet violence.
And then you apologize.
He'll look startled, but not look at you, not for a while. He will realize that he has a fairly good idea of what would prompt you to apologize, but then again, it's not like he wants to assume anything. Not with you. It just wouldn't be safe.
There is an odd feeling in his chest at that thought: upon reflection, he realizes it's equal parts sadness, regret, and disappointment. This is family. Family is supposed to be safe.
When he does look at you, his face is neutral, and his voice, when he speaks, is mildly curious, at best.]
no subject
And then you apologize.
He'll look startled, but not look at you, not for a while. He will realize that he has a fairly good idea of what would prompt you to apologize, but then again, it's not like he wants to assume anything. Not with you. It just wouldn't be safe.
There is an odd feeling in his chest at that thought: upon reflection, he realizes it's equal parts sadness, regret, and disappointment. This is family. Family is supposed to be safe.
When he does look at you, his face is neutral, and his voice, when he speaks, is mildly curious, at best.]
What for?