（ you know, he's navigated actual minefields somehow less fraught than this one, every step primed to land on something that'll rip you apart. stiles is competent at hiding those dark feelings when they curl up like smoke, but it's a learned competency — landing more like mimicry. the way something is studied, and rehearsed, and behaved, all the steps in between that stop it from being effortless instinct. but good enough, he thinks, that one day it will be.
he's seen it somewhere before — and it takes him a moment to yank the hamster out of the incongruous gearbox that is his brain to recognize it as survival. not the sort the cleave of his focus cuts to, but. it's near enough.
cy pushes the dish more towards the middle of the table, with an inviting little prompt of his fork. it's less that he thinks the kid needs a meal (though he does) and more that he thinks he needs the grounding distraction now that he's set the empty mug aside.
lightly: ）
Well, special's all relative. What about you, you a music man?
no subject
he's seen it somewhere before — and it takes him a moment to yank the hamster out of the incongruous gearbox that is his brain to recognize it as survival. not the sort the cleave of his focus cuts to, but. it's near enough.
cy pushes the dish more towards the middle of the table, with an inviting little prompt of his fork. it's less that he thinks the kid needs a meal (though he does) and more that he thinks he needs the grounding distraction now that he's set the empty mug aside.
lightly: ）
Well, special's all relative. What about you, you a music man?