[ And she does trust him, quite clearly; perhaps one day it's something that can be returned, this level of sharing, though she does realize he's given her a lot by his standards. That his trust in what he has given her has been beyond significant in his line of work. She may not have a frame of reference for just how he fits into place where he came from, but she knows how to recognize skill and potential when she sees it. Nearly one hundred years between them and he'd still put most of those she knew to shame. Likewise, she's had a few glimpses of him in action to know just how capable he can be, speaking to his dedication in his career— another little nudge to know that information given to him will be well-guarded.
Thankfully, because they'd promised to speak to each other and work on concerted efforts to grow closer, she knows she isn't burdening him. If that were the case he would likely be just as honest and not indulge her, or at least put up a fuss. Yet his focus remains on her and he listens to her every word intently, allowing her the time to place the pieces down where they make sense and tell the story properly. He is upset, yes, but he's still listening, remaining otherwise calm. Perhaps it strikes a familiar chord for him, or he's simply being protective of her feelings. Regardless, she can recognize it and she's only endeared further to him, especially once he's giving into her offered hand. (Even if he looks at it like she'll bite, for a moment.) ]
You helped him with the tunnels? I'm sad we missed each other; he called me to help an injured group escaping. I'd been swept up in assisting those experimented on in the creatatorium after, then later I was around the homeless colony. At least you were working well together. That doesn't seem to come very easily to him anymore.
[ It's a nice reprieve before she really delves into detail, welcoming Snake to her side as their linked hands pass over her head and he's taking a seat with the lean of her weight soon against him, threading her fingers through his loosely as he shifts forward. She's grown used to him closing his eyes to focus on given information, trying to keep her tone calm with measured words so as not to overwhelm, keeping things clear-cut. She doesn't bring her emotions into it, or at least not yet. And she doesn't offer excuses; there is a bit of extrapolation on her part, but she presents facts and the like outcome of what has happened, and it's all so easy for her to imagine because she's seen so much anxiety and PTSD in soldiers, leaders, to know exactly what to expect.
Angela empathizes, yes, but she isn't completely burying the effect these things have had on her; they're let on with her ease of leaning against him, the quiet ways she seeks his presence and warmth, the fact that she's sharing some of this at all. That she's trusting him with this side of her, information and feelings and to let him see her at all instead of hiding the toll its had on her. Surely had she told him it wasn't her place to explain, he'd understand. She doesn't even ask him to maintain the secret. That would be an insult to him. He already knows from her initial nervous behavior and 76's own secrecy that it wasn't to leave these walls. This company. It was his job, after all.
Then he turns it on her and her brows pinch, almost pained, looking up at him. She won't cry; she's done plenty of that already, but the hurt is still there and it only throbs once acknowledged, slender fingers sifting a little closer through his to squeeze his hand until he draws away to face her. He speaks quietly, making his focus on her known and ensuring that his sincerity pushes through as he speaks, tells her she's trustworthy, that she's allowed to be hurt— the weight and warmth of his hand on her nearly-bared shoulder. While it's true enough she's kept a large portion of it at bay with Jack in her immediate vicinity, isn't it nice to hear?
It earns him a smile, turning her head and covering his hand with her own, leaning down to kiss the base of his thumb and rest her cheek there. ]
Thank you, David. It's never that easy though, is it?
[ And here he's being so sweet to her, too. Hopefully he knows she appreciates it deeply, that she's able to convey it properly. ]
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Thankfully, because they'd promised to speak to each other and work on concerted efforts to grow closer, she knows she isn't burdening him. If that were the case he would likely be just as honest and not indulge her, or at least put up a fuss. Yet his focus remains on her and he listens to her every word intently, allowing her the time to place the pieces down where they make sense and tell the story properly. He is upset, yes, but he's still listening, remaining otherwise calm. Perhaps it strikes a familiar chord for him, or he's simply being protective of her feelings. Regardless, she can recognize it and she's only endeared further to him, especially once he's giving into her offered hand. (Even if he looks at it like she'll bite, for a moment.) ]
You helped him with the tunnels? I'm sad we missed each other; he called me to help an injured group escaping. I'd been swept up in assisting those experimented on in the creatatorium after, then later I was around the homeless colony. At least you were working well together. That doesn't seem to come very easily to him anymore.
[ It's a nice reprieve before she really delves into detail, welcoming Snake to her side as their linked hands pass over her head and he's taking a seat with the lean of her weight soon against him, threading her fingers through his loosely as he shifts forward. She's grown used to him closing his eyes to focus on given information, trying to keep her tone calm with measured words so as not to overwhelm, keeping things clear-cut. She doesn't bring her emotions into it, or at least not yet. And she doesn't offer excuses; there is a bit of extrapolation on her part, but she presents facts and the like outcome of what has happened, and it's all so easy for her to imagine because she's seen so much anxiety and PTSD in soldiers, leaders, to know exactly what to expect.
Angela empathizes, yes, but she isn't completely burying the effect these things have had on her; they're let on with her ease of leaning against him, the quiet ways she seeks his presence and warmth, the fact that she's sharing some of this at all. That she's trusting him with this side of her, information and feelings and to let him see her at all instead of hiding the toll its had on her. Surely had she told him it wasn't her place to explain, he'd understand. She doesn't even ask him to maintain the secret. That would be an insult to him. He already knows from her initial nervous behavior and 76's own secrecy that it wasn't to leave these walls. This company. It was his job, after all.
Then he turns it on her and her brows pinch, almost pained, looking up at him. She won't cry; she's done plenty of that already, but the hurt is still there and it only throbs once acknowledged, slender fingers sifting a little closer through his to squeeze his hand until he draws away to face her. He speaks quietly, making his focus on her known and ensuring that his sincerity pushes through as he speaks, tells her she's trustworthy, that she's allowed to be hurt— the weight and warmth of his hand on her nearly-bared shoulder. While it's true enough she's kept a large portion of it at bay with Jack in her immediate vicinity, isn't it nice to hear?
It earns him a smile, turning her head and covering his hand with her own, leaning down to kiss the base of his thumb and rest her cheek there. ]
Thank you, David. It's never that easy though, is it?
[ And here he's being so sweet to her, too. Hopefully he knows she appreciates it deeply, that she's able to convey it properly. ]