[ This is a silly, unproductive conversation in the way that so many of their others have been. Even when he's joked with Prompto he's never quite had the luxury of something so simple as time, bound to a short arcade session here or a chat between classes there. Even now, when light moods are harder to come by in Eos in spite of his friend's renewed desperation to seek them out, there's always an undercurrent of seriousness and awareness that sleep is more vital than play.
That makes staying up to speak to Kaladin such a precious oddity, and also makes it feel... different.
Recently he's filled in the gaps of their conversations trying to picture his friend's life back on Roshar, a task made easier and easier the more details Kaladin chooses to provide. Most of them rely on events and express themselves in emotions, like the warmth that accompanies imagining Kaladin as a child, or how he interacted with his parents or younger brother once upon a time. Maybe anger, when envisioning how he was treated by a society that should've been organized to protect him.
This, however, is silly trivia that he's given to likely use as ammo in another back and forth verbal sparring match, but something about it stops him.
The picture is formed in his mind like it has been for all his other facts, and in the absence of any emotion to color a mental image his mind finds its own. A reference point. Kaladin's hair is thick and full just like Gladio's, but his shield has long-since sported the beard his new friend is apparently so desperate to avoid. Maybe it would look similar on him. Grow in the same way, have the same texture. Stubble would likely brush against his knuckles in the same hair-raising way it always had when he'd sparred with Gladio and a lucky punch had struck his taller opponent, though it would be that much more satisfying a win against Kaladin.
The warmth in his cheeks startles him as he becomes suddenly aware of the time between Kaladin's response and his own, sitting up straighter like that might drag him away from confusing thoughts and the new oddly pleasant knot in his stomach. ]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
2/3
That makes staying up to speak to Kaladin such a precious oddity, and also makes it feel... different.
Recently he's filled in the gaps of their conversations trying to picture his friend's life back on Roshar, a task made easier and easier the more details Kaladin chooses to provide. Most of them rely on events and express themselves in emotions, like the warmth that accompanies imagining Kaladin as a child, or how he interacted with his parents or younger brother once upon a time. Maybe anger, when envisioning how he was treated by a society that should've been organized to protect him.
This, however, is silly trivia that he's given to likely use as ammo in another back and forth verbal sparring match, but something about it stops him.
The picture is formed in his mind like it has been for all his other facts, and in the absence of any emotion to color a mental image his mind finds its own. A reference point. Kaladin's hair is thick and full just like Gladio's, but his shield has long-since sported the beard his new friend is apparently so desperate to avoid. Maybe it would look similar on him. Grow in the same way, have the same texture. Stubble would likely brush against his knuckles in the same hair-raising way it always had when he'd sparred with Gladio and a lucky punch had struck his taller opponent, though it would be that much more satisfying a win against Kaladin.
The warmth in his cheeks startles him as he becomes suddenly aware of the time between Kaladin's response and his own, sitting up straighter like that might drag him away from confusing thoughts and the new oddly pleasant knot in his stomach. ]