So... I've been getting the censored, carefully thought-out version of you this whole time?
[ It's too easy a jab not to make and is even partly sincere, forced to wonder what it would be like if Cain weren't constantly filtering himself around him. What if he were to be the same in return? The thought is immediately intimidating, and he loses the will to push him on it. ]
I was smoking it, by the way, or did you not notice? You show me again, then, if you're such an expert. [ The cigarette is held back out without any real sense of agitation or competition for once. He can still taste the smoke, less sharp and suffocating than the razing of ground by his elemancy, and decides at once that it isn't unpleasant. ]
It's pretty weird, actually. That after this whole conversation you're sitting there trying to guess what I mean, again. I feel like we made it obvious that we're both bad at it and always wrong, but you'd still rather do that than ask me.
[There's a soft snort, though soon he falls to silence as he listens. Censored isn't the word he would use, personally, but to some degree he gets what Noctis is trying to say. And that's a step in the right direction.]
You seriously think I don't know how to smoke? Just admit you don't know what you're doing. It's not like I'm gonna blame you — just gotta have the experience, which you're getting right now.
[Cain plucks the cigarette back with another gentle slide of fingers, then takes a deep drag off the end, blowing out smoke in a funneled stream.]
When you do it right, you get this nice, heady feeling... like all the rough edges get filed off whatever's nagging you. You need to inhale like you mean it, though. Breathe into your chest. [Hand extended once again, he offers the cigarette back.] It sounds like you want me to ask, so I will.
侘び...寂び. [His own accent is strong.] What does that really mean? Without just saying I'm less of an asshole.
I don't know what I'm doing. [ The admission is made readily though not without a quiet knowing look at Cain, and even the hint of a sly smile. Tonight, at least, he's not putting up a front. Tomorrow might be different... but right now it still feels okay. Refreshing. Relieving, maybe. So he watches him, eyes dropping to his chest to watch it swell with the deep breath, before he accepts that shared cigarette back. ]
... feels like I have a lot of rough edges right now. Might take more. [ It doesn't sound self-pitying, rather one more bit of honesty between them. It feels like Cain can relate, anyway, and commiseration doesn't need to be wordy to be felt. So he places the dart between his lips and again sucks in smoke, taking as deep a breath he can and holding it for a few seconds longer before he exhales. ] I definitely wanted you to ask, by the way. Not 'cause I wanna' figure out how to word it. Just because I've gotta' train you to have normal conversations apparently.
–thanks. [ He reaches out his hand to pass the smoke back off before pausing, suddenly taking another quick drag before it's actually relinquished. He needs it. ]
... you know the phrase "diamond in the rough"? When something has a lot of good in it but people don't see it. I guess... I see it in you. You don't make it easy, and that's obviously on purpose. You... I dunno. You get crass or act like a dick to chase people off, like you did with me. But then you act like this too, and it's a different person. This guy's pretty cool.
And when you're like this I know you mean it, 'cause of the other stuff. "Beauty in imperfection", it means something like that.
[There's just a soft snort, at first, listening to Noctis confide a sentiment he knows too well.
But then comes the rest. And Cain finds that his attention is deeply fixed on the other man, caught on every word with focus — a little terrified to hear what he has to say. Maybe that's part of what he's avoided. Knowing Noctis' real opinion of him, in light of all he's said and done by now, is unvisited territory. It will reveal too much truth. In their reflection of one another, Cain has always thought of himself as lesser, worse than Noctis' high-minded ideals and bravery; he doesn't know what to do when he's spoken of like this instead.
It sounds — affectionate. Is he just crazy?]
... Didn't think I'd ever hear you talk about me like that.
[And what is he supposed to do with it? The atmosphere changes with his own tension and uncertainty, exposed by vulnerability, and though he would like to think of himself as beyond such a childish reaction, his face feels hot.]
Thanks, I guess. [Eye contact has become impossible.] Keep the cig. Got plenty more where that came from.
["Anyway, good talk." Noctis has effectively put him on the back foot. But not enough that he can't say —]
[ His hand retracts, pulling back that proffered smoke to eye it himself. Even holding it feels like some kind of crime, but not more so than engaging in their current conversation. They were meant to settle things and get along, and they've achieved that, but Cain's reticence makes him feel... almost unsure. Like he's said something right enough to be wrong, and he wonders, not for the first time, if this also counts as pushing him too far too fast.
The compliment sits well on top of everything else, easing some of his doubt and ensuring that shared warmth stays painted on his face too. ]
Here I thought I got pretty close earlier. [ He takes a deep breath, ashing that cigarette with a gentle tap as he looks over. ]
... thanks. I'll, ah... talk to you later for the questions, okay? [ After a moment's consideration he stands first, plucking up that heater and leaving Cain to spend more time in the cool air clearing his head.
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no subject
[ It's too easy a jab not to make and is even partly sincere, forced to wonder what it would be like if Cain weren't constantly filtering himself around him. What if he were to be the same in return? The thought is immediately intimidating, and he loses the will to push him on it. ]
I was smoking it, by the way, or did you not notice? You show me again, then, if you're such an expert. [ The cigarette is held back out without any real sense of agitation or competition for once. He can still taste the smoke, less sharp and suffocating than the razing of ground by his elemancy, and decides at once that it isn't unpleasant. ]
It's pretty weird, actually. That after this whole conversation you're sitting there trying to guess what I mean, again. I feel like we made it obvious that we're both bad at it and always wrong, but you'd still rather do that than ask me.
no subject
You seriously think I don't know how to smoke? Just admit you don't know what you're doing. It's not like I'm gonna blame you — just gotta have the experience, which you're getting right now.
[Cain plucks the cigarette back with another gentle slide of fingers, then takes a deep drag off the end, blowing out smoke in a funneled stream.]
When you do it right, you get this nice, heady feeling... like all the rough edges get filed off whatever's nagging you. You need to inhale like you mean it, though. Breathe into your chest. [Hand extended once again, he offers the cigarette back.] It sounds like you want me to ask, so I will.
侘び...寂び. [His own accent is strong.] What does that really mean? Without just saying I'm less of an asshole.
no subject
... feels like I have a lot of rough edges right now. Might take more. [ It doesn't sound self-pitying, rather one more bit of honesty between them. It feels like Cain can relate, anyway, and commiseration doesn't need to be wordy to be felt. So he places the dart between his lips and again sucks in smoke, taking as deep a breath he can and holding it for a few seconds longer before he exhales. ] I definitely wanted you to ask, by the way. Not 'cause I wanna' figure out how to word it. Just because I've gotta' train you to have normal conversations apparently.
–thanks. [ He reaches out his hand to pass the smoke back off before pausing, suddenly taking another quick drag before it's actually relinquished. He needs it. ]
... you know the phrase "diamond in the rough"? When something has a lot of good in it but people don't see it. I guess... I see it in you. You don't make it easy, and that's obviously on purpose. You... I dunno. You get crass or act like a dick to chase people off, like you did with me. But then you act like this too, and it's a different person. This guy's pretty cool.
And when you're like this I know you mean it, 'cause of the other stuff. "Beauty in imperfection", it means something like that.
no subject
But then comes the rest. And Cain finds that his attention is deeply fixed on the other man, caught on every word with focus — a little terrified to hear what he has to say. Maybe that's part of what he's avoided. Knowing Noctis' real opinion of him, in light of all he's said and done by now, is unvisited territory. It will reveal too much truth. In their reflection of one another, Cain has always thought of himself as lesser, worse than Noctis' high-minded ideals and bravery; he doesn't know what to do when he's spoken of like this instead.
It sounds — affectionate. Is he just crazy?]
... Didn't think I'd ever hear you talk about me like that.
[And what is he supposed to do with it? The atmosphere changes with his own tension and uncertainty, exposed by vulnerability, and though he would like to think of himself as beyond such a childish reaction, his face feels hot.]
Thanks, I guess. [Eye contact has become impossible.] Keep the cig. Got plenty more where that came from.
["Anyway, good talk." Noctis has effectively put him on the back foot. But not enough that he can't say —]
Ty krutoy.
🎀
[ His hand retracts, pulling back that proffered smoke to eye it himself. Even holding it feels like some kind of crime, but not more so than engaging in their current conversation. They were meant to settle things and get along, and they've achieved that, but Cain's reticence makes him feel... almost unsure. Like he's said something right enough to be wrong, and he wonders, not for the first time, if this also counts as pushing him too far too fast.
The compliment sits well on top of everything else, easing some of his doubt and ensuring that shared warmth stays painted on his face too. ]
Here I thought I got pretty close earlier. [ He takes a deep breath, ashing that cigarette with a gentle tap as he looks over. ]
... thanks. I'll, ah... talk to you later for the questions, okay? [ After a moment's consideration he stands first, plucking up that heater and leaving Cain to spend more time in the cool air clearing his head.
He's got his own thinking to do. ]