For Desire, it was the simple trigger of being ‘told’ (as he took it) what he knew or didn’t know, being ‘told’ why he was doing what he was doing. As the aspect who had been locked away for so long because of others’ judgements, as the aspect who had begun as the very essence of knowing what Aoba wanted, he took it unexpectedly hard to be ‘judged’ in such a way when he was going through all this effort to spell out the obvious.
In some ways, he was very much still an erratic teenager. But Declan wasn’t the only one upset. Behind his thoughts, his other self was distressed. He’d wanted to take shelter behind Desire’s confidence and certainty, not his anger. Suddenly they were at odds again—not completely, but in parts—and Aoba’s body was tense under Declan’s hands. At the same time, however, it meant that he was not wholly disinclined to listen, however frustrated Desire wanted to be that now Declan wanted to talk, now he wanted to sound sure and confident of his choices.
“I don’t have anxieties! That’s why I’m here!” Desire exclaimed, hands up in the air, making the frustrated gestures of one looking for the right words to pull out of it. It wasn’t a whole truth, else he wouldn’t have been so sensitive to being judged or ignored, but as far as words went, he was not nearly as eloquent as Declan could be. One of those hand-waves was even towards the back of his head, undermining his depictions of a unified individual when he said, “Thinking so hard is exactly the problem, but if putting me forward only means you overthink things instead, then the two of you are just going to overthink us all to-”
Hazel. Like the flip of a switch, Desire’s ranting was cut off by Reason’s silence, tense posture going weak and hands returning to hang at his sides, eyes averted the moment after the change in aspects took place.
A moment stretched out, long enough to note but not actually as long as it probably felt, before he managed, “…I made you think I don’t like you. I didn’t correct you when I should have. I thought…getting away from this overthinking side of me would fix it.”
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In some ways, he was very much still an erratic teenager. But Declan wasn’t the only one upset. Behind his thoughts, his other self was distressed. He’d wanted to take shelter behind Desire’s confidence and certainty, not his anger. Suddenly they were at odds again—not completely, but in parts—and Aoba’s body was tense under Declan’s hands. At the same time, however, it meant that he was not wholly disinclined to listen, however frustrated Desire wanted to be that now Declan wanted to talk, now he wanted to sound sure and confident of his choices.
“I don’t have anxieties! That’s why I’m here!” Desire exclaimed, hands up in the air, making the frustrated gestures of one looking for the right words to pull out of it. It wasn’t a whole truth, else he wouldn’t have been so sensitive to being judged or ignored, but as far as words went, he was not nearly as eloquent as Declan could be. One of those hand-waves was even towards the back of his head, undermining his depictions of a unified individual when he said, “Thinking so hard is exactly the problem, but if putting me forward only means you overthink things instead, then the two of you are just going to overthink us all to-”
Hazel. Like the flip of a switch, Desire’s ranting was cut off by Reason’s silence, tense posture going weak and hands returning to hang at his sides, eyes averted the moment after the change in aspects took place.
A moment stretched out, long enough to note but not actually as long as it probably felt, before he managed, “…I made you think I don’t like you. I didn’t correct you when I should have. I thought…getting away from this overthinking side of me would fix it.”