[So it was like that, and things never seemed to be so simple. Soubi stood at the sink, washing out the dishes he had forgot to clean after finishing the task of impossible ice cream. Perhaps it hadn't been so easy, but easy enough.
It tasted all right.]
Mm.
[And watching the door idly between, he decided he really needed a cigarette.]
[Having registered where Soubi lived on the last trip, the task of fixing a dark corridor between his apartment and Soubi's was made only a little harder than usual due to the barrier aftershock. Still, it was shorter than taking the subway across the City, and more effective. In the space of a few breaths, Roxas stepped out into a room not his own. Doors, apparently, were for somebodies.
Greetings still sounded strange to him, and saying 'ice cream' seemed worse. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, once, then waited to be noticed.]
[The water already off, hands dried on the material of his jeans without any real interest, Soubi tilted his head. An unconscious gesture, one particularly brought on by habit and partial impatience; he'd have thought-- And when he turned, the smallness he'd come to associate with Roxas was standing there. Fidgeting?
Oh. He simply smiled, nodding at him.]
I didn't--
[A pause, and Soubi ran a slightly damp hand through now loose hair.]
[He nodded at the shadows, now fading into a mere twist in the air behind him. The apartment hadn't changed much; he registered the fact with only bare, blank instinct. The rest of his attention was channeled into sweeping the apartment with sharp eyes, finding nothing of interest - of interest, in these circumstances, of course, meaning blue and somewhat melty. At last, he tilted his head.]
[To the point, as always. He didn't feel the need to question his poor explanation of portals. Like most of its inhabitants, it was probably a necessity in Roxas' world. Besides, was there any need to care? The boy certainly showed as little interest as possible, and Soubi, as accustomed as he was to them, catered expertly to that request without hesitation.
At the freezer, one in hand and extended in the other's direction. Like a baiting tease. Because he knew the delicacy of ice cream, that it would melt with or without direction.
Mm. They had this flavor, too, back home - strange nostalgia.]
[He didn't miss much about his own world - the denizens were prey for their hearts or predators that had never interested him - but he did miss the ice cream. Drifting past Soubi, he forgot the rituals of gratitude and politeness again in favor of opening the freezer to seize its contents.
One hand still on the handle of the freezer, he nibbled at the bar, tentatively. An unfamiliar sensation twitched in his muscles; it took him a blink and a second's thought to remember: he was smiling.] It's good.
[It was only natural to return the gesture, lips stretched a little wider. Yes, it was...something a child would do, would say. Soubi hadn't even minded the lack of manners, etiquette in asking before taking. He simply stood back, distant from that scene for the seconds it lasted, and observed.
[The tension in his whole frame could only be seen now that it was gone. He moved more fluidly without it, with an innate familiarity to his surroundings. It was less the way he would move if he knew the apartment than as if he'd forgotten that he was there at all. Distant confusion flitted through a glance as his eyes passed over Soubi. He cocked his head.]
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It tasted all right.]
Mm.
[And watching the door idly between, he decided he really needed a cigarette.]
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Greetings still sounded strange to him, and saying 'ice cream' seemed worse. He shifted his weight from foot to foot, once, then waited to be noticed.]
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Oh. He simply smiled, nodding at him.]
I didn't--
[A pause, and Soubi ran a slightly damp hand through now loose hair.]
You're here already.
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[He nodded at the shadows, now fading into a mere twist in the air behind him. The apartment hadn't changed much; he registered the fact with only bare, blank instinct. The rest of his attention was channeled into sweeping the apartment with sharp eyes, finding nothing of interest - of interest, in these circumstances, of course, meaning blue and somewhat melty. At last, he tilted his head.]
Ice cream?
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At the freezer, one in hand and extended in the other's direction. Like a baiting tease. Because he knew the delicacy of ice cream, that it would melt with or without direction.
Mm. They had this flavor, too, back home - strange nostalgia.]
Here.
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One hand still on the handle of the freezer, he nibbled at the bar, tentatively. An unfamiliar sensation twitched in his muscles; it took him a blink and a second's thought to remember: he was smiling.]
It's good.
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The artist in him, he surmised.
A soft sigh, and Soubi eventually looked away.]
I'm glad.
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Why are you glad?
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