And guess who barely moved for all of those five minutes, barely aware of the time passing. Aoba wound up lifting a hand to prop his cheek up with as he continued to lean there, smiling like a man with a private joke. At least for a little while, he was relatively unselfconscious. He gazed upon the hulk of the Titan not with embarrassment and awkward wonderings, but with a much simpler gratitude and innocent affection.
Something wasn’t right with this world, for such a kind and generous man to live so alone and have so few friends. Aoba was still waiting for evidence of any kind of angry streak, too. Even that man that he’d clouted in the bar, for Aoba’s sake, had been taken out with impassive calm. And then he’d gone and been given a Cosmopolitan of all things. Complimented his hair, saying little more than a few words at a time.
Now look at him. Look back at all the heartfelt, poetic things he’d ended up saying since then.
Aoba’s face fell only at the question, and he made a vague noise of discontent as he stood up and moved around the couch, dropping into the free space beside the other man now that he was awake. “I know it was good to go,” he began in answer, staring out the broad window ahead of them, “But I don’t know what good it’ll do. I don’t have the time to just pursue a specialized treatment plan, you know? Maybe when I get back to Midorijima, or even when I come back here, but right now? It’s too much to ask for.”
He spread his hands in a useless little gesture, giving Declan a sideways look. “But, on the positive side, I don’t have any painful headaches any more, and it’s not like I went completely Jekyll and Hyde on you guys, right? I was just…somebody different for a little while.”
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Something wasn’t right with this world, for such a kind and generous man to live so alone and have so few friends. Aoba was still waiting for evidence of any kind of angry streak, too. Even that man that he’d clouted in the bar, for Aoba’s sake, had been taken out with impassive calm. And then he’d gone and been given a Cosmopolitan of all things. Complimented his hair, saying little more than a few words at a time.
Now look at him. Look back at all the heartfelt, poetic things he’d ended up saying since then.
Aoba’s face fell only at the question, and he made a vague noise of discontent as he stood up and moved around the couch, dropping into the free space beside the other man now that he was awake. “I know it was good to go,” he began in answer, staring out the broad window ahead of them, “But I don’t know what good it’ll do. I don’t have the time to just pursue a specialized treatment plan, you know? Maybe when I get back to Midorijima, or even when I come back here, but right now? It’s too much to ask for.”
He spread his hands in a useless little gesture, giving Declan a sideways look. “But, on the positive side, I don’t have any painful headaches any more, and it’s not like I went completely Jekyll and Hyde on you guys, right? I was just…somebody different for a little while.”