redheadcarrier | [DDD | 055

_{[Asuka's face burned even more, if that was possible. How could he not know what meant? Sometimes she forgot that he wasn't entirely human. Hadn't been. She half-growled, fidgeting as she straightened up. She tugged on the hem of her shirt uncomfortably, toying with it for a moment before she forced her hands into fists at her sides as she tried to find the right words. This was so aggravating. Why did he need clarification? It wasn't as if she'd danced around the subject like other people would have! Why couldn't he just understand?

Irritation flickered across her features and she finally let out a long sigh.]}

I mean sex, you moron. You know....

_{[She trailed off hopefully before pushing on. He probably didn't. She rubbed a hand over her face.]}

Like. Us.

_{[OK, if he didn't get that, she was going murder him.]}

[He had not been incorrect, then.

And it is that realization that stills him. For an instant. He had not been entirely unaware of this aspect. This particular point of relationships. Something he had read in books. Had witnessed in common media. Had seen in the way that others had interacted. In Iwatodai. On the community. The need to be closer. To want to be closer. The ideal of becoming, for some instant - and it something biological. Taught, if briefly. A scientific understanding. He knew what it was. He knew how it operated, in some senses. The natural purpose, but - in this there lies a difference. A desire. A kind of want. An expression. A method of communication. Something that could say something that neither could not. Something that could say something that either could.

And this was something new. Again, something he had not stumbled into. Had not truly contemplated. Had thought over. Something - He had been content to be by her. Simply enough. Had grown to enjoy the kind of affection she had granted him. That he had granted her. Had grown not to still so entirely beneath the imploring reach of her hand or the occasional kiss. The kind of closeness, no longer so odd. Something not entirely new. Not something entirely peculiar. And he had grown used to shift in their proximity. Comfortable. Accustomed to. And for a long moment, there is no particular protest that rises to it. There is nothing that reaches a kind of rejection. And he's rubbing the back of his neck with the tips of his fingers. Watching the way she continues to blush. The way she needs to fidget.

And he is not missing the way she balls her hands into fists. The rising tension and aggravation. And he's searching for a manner in which to word his answer. Elusive, for a moment.

There was no manner in which he could truly rearrange the question. No longer needing to seek a sort of clarification. No longer needing it. And part of him is aware of why it is she asks this question, though the other remains - ]

... It is not something I am particularly opposed to.

[Uncertain.]

_{[Asuka threw up her hands in exasperation. She sometimes despaired of getting a straight answer out of the boy.]}

What is that supposed to mean? I am so frustrated right now! YOu have no idea what I've been having to think about all day! Justt getting my mind off of you has been impossible and I am so frustrated!

_{[She clapped a hand over her mouth and then let it fall to her side again, cheeks still red and flushed. She rubbed her temple for a moment, trying to figure out what to say next.]}

I... don't you ever think about it? At all?

_{[Because she has, even if not at quite the same volume as today.]}

[He isn't thinking. Not thinking. Before he's quirking his lips up slightly. Waving his free hand absently. Partially to pacify. Partially to settle. And it is her admittance that loops back. For a moment. The idea that she could not clear her thoughts of him. Could not rid her thoughts of him. A faint sort of surprise to know - and though he cannot clearly formulate an idea of what thoughts she had possessed, the subject is obvious. Is notable.

And he's slowly lowering his hand from his neck. Uncertain, for a moment, as to what to do with it before he's slipping it into his pocket. The weight familiar. Usual. Almost -]

It, ah - [And he's pausing. Voice still a tad quieter than he had intended - though he's clearing it, after a moment. Aware of her aggravation. Aware of how much it must take for her to even mention this. To question this. Knowing - And he's shifting his weight. Again. If absently.] It is not something I tend to think on.

Edited 2010-05-11 15:00 (UTC)

How can you just... not think about it? Ever?

_{[On the upshot, it probably meant he was effected by the virus. On the downside, it also gave her a needling little reminder of just how far from human Kaworu really was. She groaned dramatically and put a hand over her eyes.]}

You don't-

All I've been thinking about today is you! I can't get these... thoughts... out of my head!

_{[She dropped her hand and stared at him, fidgeting uncomfortably for a moment as she tried very hard not to think about certain things and failed.]}

[Such things were normal. Usual. He had learned enough about it. Had considered the subject when brought to his attention. Had realized the symptoms and the behavior associated behind attraction. Desire. However - he's glancing a little beyond the curve of her shoulder. Noting the way she keeps to fidgeting. Noting the weight of her stare. Noting the difference. Observing it. And there something foreign, there. The name placed, but - And he's shifting. If only slightly. Words like ashes. And they almost taste brittle on the tip of his tongue, though each sentence he comes to seems insufficient. Inadequate. Unable to - ]

It is not to - [And they're bubbling up. Almost before he is realizing it. Almost before he is able to silence them. And he's only absently flexing his fingers against the back of his neck. Only glancing back to her, after a moment.] It is merely a concept I had not happened to be able to think on, often.

_{[Asuka stared at Kaworu, flabbergasted. Her gaze slid over his face, his lips down his neck to his collar-bone- She couldn't comprehend how it was just a concept to him. Society was steeped in it. It showed up almost everywhere. How could it just remain a concept? It sounded so academic and cold and foreign. It was an expression of something. Before she really realized what she was doing, carried along by a mixture of shock, anger, frustration and incredulity, she stalked over to him.]}

A concept? A concept? It's more than that! How can you say something so... so... stupid?

_{[She jabbed a palm into his chest, anger and frustration flaring as she shoved him.]}

It's not just a concept! It's about... love and passion and being with someone you really care about! It's not just a stupid concept! What's wrong with you?

[And he's unable to voice what answer he had possessed. Unable to clearly formulate it as he realizes the effect of his own. Knowing it is more than merely that. Knowing it had been more than merely that. And he's not resisting the aggression as she shoves him back. What honesty he had placed in that particular answer - and he's catching himself against the door. Unflinching. Knowing this action, before. Remembering months and months back. Remembering the night she had come into his dorm. Had raised her hand to him. Remembering - and he's subconsciously pressing his back against the door. Not shrinking back nor moving forward. Expression void. Neutral. And he's only listening to her. Almost feeling the notes of her aggravation. The heat of frustration. The smaller sparks of incredulity.

He's quiet. For the moment. Still feeling the absent pressure of her hand. The slow mutter of some discomfort along his shoulder. His back. A little too slow to shield himself. Before he's murmuring, if almost too quietly.]

I am not entirely unaware of the implications, Asuka.

_{[She stares at him for a moment, hand splayed out over his chest. She can feel the warmth of his body through his shirt, the soft beating of his heart, the soft rise and fall of his chest as he breathes. It's all there. She's frustrated because she cannot get these thoughts out of her head. She's frustrated because Kaworu doesn't seem to understand. She's angry at herself for having to have this talk in the first place. He just looks at her with that same neutral expression. Unbidden, she wonders if his expression would change if she-

She tries to shake it off, still glaring, hand pressed against him.]}

Then how ca you treat it like it's... just... unimportant?

[There is no manner in which he might word this. Something elusive and intangible. Something he had understood in what manners he could. Something he had never particularly thought on. Something - and it settles uncomfortably at the bottom of his stomach. Knotted up and tangled there. Unable to be followed or unwoven. Knowing to accept the fact he had never been permitted room to worry nor wonder about this mode of expression - knowing he had never come to think he would experience any particular closeness to begin with - and his expression is shifting into something less distant. More unreadable. Not wincing away from her glare. Not breaking eye contact. Just feeling the steady weight of her hand. The way it follows his breath. Wondering if she could feel the fainter rhythm of his heart. Knowing to have expressed this much - to have revealed this much - she had made herself vulnerable. Something she hates. Had hated. Had always hated. And he knows how much this takes her, to await some kind of answer. And he's flexing his fingers against the door.

He knows this gesture is important. He knows - and it's taking him a moment, before he's (almost tentatively) lifts a hand. Lets it linger.]

_{[Asuka shoves herself away from him and turns on her heel, stalking back to her (their) room. She's still frustrated and now she's angry. She doesn't want to deal with his strange intractability right now, his inability to answer questions.]}

Why can't you just give me a straight answer for once?

_{[There's a resounding 'crash' as she slams the door shut behind her.]}

[DDD | 055 | Text]

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... sob. this boy.

Re: ... sob. this boy.

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