[It's blunt alright; but that's justified enough. Bluntness in return for earlier bluntness, and Jack figures he probably does deserve it.]
[But really, all things considered, he almost wishes he was that dense, if only because--]
[Because, well...]
[And when Zelos turns around Jack's still standing where he had been before, staff still shouldered--though that said staff is fidgeting a bit, now, because the hand holding it is, turning it slightly between fingertips intimately familiar with every single whorl and gnarl in that section of wood. Something of a consoling habit--though, here, it really does little in the face of all this.]
[Jack's frame bends slightly, shifts sideways, free hand rising in a single gesture that's already half-forgotten. And that same brief expression from yesterday is probably back now, the surprised and uncertain and slightly, uniquely frightened one.]
[Because he's not that dense, not that dense at all, not after three hundred years of roaming unseen among humanity, and if there's one thing that matters to humans more than anything else, it's--]
[But--]
Nobody's ever-- [The sentence dies before it even rises properly, and Jack sighs, wayward free hand finally traveling up to fruitlessly brush his bangs out of his eyes, before he draws back upright to look at Zelos.] ...I don't remember--if I'd ever had a relationship. Before.
[There, that's the word. 'Relationship'. And 'before' as in 'before the lake' and 'before the moon', though whether Zelos would be able to pick up on that...Jack isn't sure at all. And the whole statement in itself is entirely inadequate, doesn't even begin to properly explain exactly what it is he thinks about...all of this. About Zelos being so bluntly direct about the whole prospect. About the fact that, apparently, he's confident enough in the decision (or the feeling, or--something) that kisses are already a given, at it's just...]
[He doesn't know where to start at all. But there's something a bit pained, in the way he says that, even try as Jack might to keep it tamped down.]
[How this is ever going to get across is anyone's guess, it really is.]
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[But really, all things considered, he almost wishes he was that dense, if only because--]
[Because, well...]
[And when Zelos turns around Jack's still standing where he had been before, staff still shouldered--though that said staff is fidgeting a bit, now, because the hand holding it is, turning it slightly between fingertips intimately familiar with every single whorl and gnarl in that section of wood. Something of a consoling habit--though, here, it really does little in the face of all this.]
[Jack's frame bends slightly, shifts sideways, free hand rising in a single gesture that's already half-forgotten. And that same brief expression from yesterday is probably back now, the surprised and uncertain and slightly, uniquely frightened one.]
[Because he's not that dense, not that dense at all, not after three hundred years of roaming unseen among humanity, and if there's one thing that matters to humans more than anything else, it's--]
[But--]
Nobody's ever-- [The sentence dies before it even rises properly, and Jack sighs, wayward free hand finally traveling up to fruitlessly brush his bangs out of his eyes, before he draws back upright to look at Zelos.] ...I don't remember--if I'd ever had a relationship. Before.
[There, that's the word. 'Relationship'. And 'before' as in 'before the lake' and 'before the moon', though whether Zelos would be able to pick up on that...Jack isn't sure at all. And the whole statement in itself is entirely inadequate, doesn't even begin to properly explain exactly what it is he thinks about...all of this. About Zelos being so bluntly direct about the whole prospect. About the fact that, apparently, he's confident enough in the decision (or the feeling, or--something) that kisses are already a given, at it's just...]
[He doesn't know where to start at all. But there's something a bit pained, in the way he says that, even try as Jack might to keep it tamped down.]
[How this is ever going to get across is anyone's guess, it really is.]