Whether he was aware of it or not, Declan really knew how to make a person feel…at least closer to normal. Comfort, reassurance, and then basic to business as usual without being dismissive of it. Even that entity called ‘Desire’ in the back of his thoughts simmered down to just the occasional grumbling, as if Aoba found himself in a place where he didn’t want much more than he was already getting. (Was that even how it worked, to have one’s mind divided this way?)
Aoba might have remained fairly subdued after that, but it was recuperation rather than regression. He was attentive to Declan speaking and gave answers where he could, meeting his gaze on occasion and never avoiding it. Frozen meals weren’t going to be a problem, he promised. After being stuck with the Decker gang in Steelport and having nothing but junk food and energy drinks thrown at him, he was never going to resent anything that was still real food, frozen or otherwise. More privately, Aoba reflected on how it suddenly made sense that Declan didn’t need to eat. He was dead, after all.
But it was still so hard to think that of someone who was so warm….
Then the moment was upon them. All their packed-up things had been loaded onto the Mariner, Aoba was clad in every piece of gear (sans helmet) he’d been given, and—this was it. They were going into space. Aoba was still kind of anxious about it, but not nearly so much as he’d been when the idea had first been proposed. Maybe he was just at emotional capacity after everything else, or maybe it just felt normal given how routine it was for Declan himself, but Aoba only felt jittery instead of truly afraid or panicked. He was strapped in, Ren was alert and in his lap, and space awaited them.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he agreed, a soft smile hopefully helping to compensate for another relative lack of words.
no subject
Aoba might have remained fairly subdued after that, but it was recuperation rather than regression. He was attentive to Declan speaking and gave answers where he could, meeting his gaze on occasion and never avoiding it. Frozen meals weren’t going to be a problem, he promised. After being stuck with the Decker gang in Steelport and having nothing but junk food and energy drinks thrown at him, he was never going to resent anything that was still real food, frozen or otherwise. More privately, Aoba reflected on how it suddenly made sense that Declan didn’t need to eat. He was dead, after all.
But it was still so hard to think that of someone who was so warm….
Then the moment was upon them. All their packed-up things had been loaded onto the Mariner, Aoba was clad in every piece of gear (sans helmet) he’d been given, and—this was it. They were going into space. Aoba was still kind of anxious about it, but not nearly so much as he’d been when the idea had first been proposed. Maybe he was just at emotional capacity after everything else, or maybe it just felt normal given how routine it was for Declan himself, but Aoba only felt jittery instead of truly afraid or panicked. He was strapped in, Ren was alert and in his lap, and space awaited them.
“Ready as I’ll ever be,” he agreed, a soft smile hopefully helping to compensate for another relative lack of words.