[ That isn't a fair beginning for anyone. The fact that they had connected further as complete strangers is not lost on her, but it's a case of patience and understanding on top of an existing trust in one another's path. Angela knows soldiers, and Ahab knows medics. They already had an intrinsic understanding of the other to begin with and were able to build from there, and they were both patient people willing to listen.
Sometimes that's all it took.
(It's a little unfair to think she may not be real at this point, yes, but who could blame him?)
He seems more concerned with her than with the pictures she's taken with him, tossing the TAB aside to follow the curve of her when she sits back up to work, his warmth a balm against her back even before his hand rests between her shoulderblades. Ahab could never pull off intimidation with her, anymore. He's long-since forfeit that angle by placing his trust in her hands time and again. No matter what may happen or how his demeanor shifts, she'll always tap into some deep vein of patience for him.
Her eyes close for a long few moments to simply soak in the heat of his hand seeping through her sweater, his touch tracing up to her nape and to bare skin where rough fingertips come to rest. Her head tips forward just a little, the stretch of her neck inviting as she softens to him. ]
It isn't, is it? [ Conceding, for another long moment, and his voice is so close to her. He really is right behind her, curving over her. His bulk dwarfs her yet he isn't overwhelming in the least— it's a comfort to have him at her back, shelter from a buffeting gale and warmth from the cold. How could he have doubted her claim of his sweetness? There's sugar spun into the very fiber of his being, surfacing here with his presence encasing her and his touch, the words he offers her. The offer to listen. ] A lot has happened, is all.
[ Angela finally opens her eyes once more and sets about working anew, filtering out shorted or ripped wires and carefully piecing it apart in small chunks to clean everything thoroughly. Over a year's buildup of grease and grime and grit. She'll have to repair the protective sleeve or perhaps replace it altogether with a more comprehensive carbon fiber. She'd get him taken care of, however it panned out. Just when it seems she had capped off the conversation with that, though, she begins to speak again. ]
Though I did find out someone I had thought dead managed to survive, as well. There's always balance in the universe, isn't there? I distracted myself for a while with his presence, ensuring he was all right after he was badly injured. He hadn't wanted to tell me who he was, yet it just sort of tumbled out. I've been so glad. Even if it'd been an accident. Even if he never would have told me otherwise.
[ The hurt in that statement is unfortunately clear, but it's still laced with her understanding— of course she understood. It didn't make it better, but she understood. Even her attempts in speaking of it with David had been cut short. Being able to say it here, now... She slumps a little further, deflated, but it's a weight off of her chest. ]
no subject
Sometimes that's all it took.
(It's a little unfair to think she may not be real at this point, yes, but who could blame him?)
He seems more concerned with her than with the pictures she's taken with him, tossing the TAB aside to follow the curve of her when she sits back up to work, his warmth a balm against her back even before his hand rests between her shoulderblades. Ahab could never pull off intimidation with her, anymore. He's long-since forfeit that angle by placing his trust in her hands time and again. No matter what may happen or how his demeanor shifts, she'll always tap into some deep vein of patience for him.
Her eyes close for a long few moments to simply soak in the heat of his hand seeping through her sweater, his touch tracing up to her nape and to bare skin where rough fingertips come to rest. Her head tips forward just a little, the stretch of her neck inviting as she softens to him. ]
It isn't, is it? [ Conceding, for another long moment, and his voice is so close to her. He really is right behind her, curving over her. His bulk dwarfs her yet he isn't overwhelming in the least— it's a comfort to have him at her back, shelter from a buffeting gale and warmth from the cold. How could he have doubted her claim of his sweetness? There's sugar spun into the very fiber of his being, surfacing here with his presence encasing her and his touch, the words he offers her. The offer to listen. ] A lot has happened, is all.
[ Angela finally opens her eyes once more and sets about working anew, filtering out shorted or ripped wires and carefully piecing it apart in small chunks to clean everything thoroughly. Over a year's buildup of grease and grime and grit. She'll have to repair the protective sleeve or perhaps replace it altogether with a more comprehensive carbon fiber. She'd get him taken care of, however it panned out. Just when it seems she had capped off the conversation with that, though, she begins to speak again. ]
Though I did find out someone I had thought dead managed to survive, as well. There's always balance in the universe, isn't there? I distracted myself for a while with his presence, ensuring he was all right after he was badly injured. He hadn't wanted to tell me who he was, yet it just sort of tumbled out. I've been so glad. Even if it'd been an accident. Even if he never would have told me otherwise.
[ The hurt in that statement is unfortunately clear, but it's still laced with her understanding— of course she understood. It didn't make it better, but she understood. Even her attempts in speaking of it with David had been cut short. Being able to say it here, now... She slumps a little further, deflated, but it's a weight off of her chest. ]