[Now that does get him to sour, and he shoots the other boy a look from over top of the spirit, eyebrows pulled flat in the exact kind of indignation inherent in someone reading the serious into the casual. Who is he to tell him to ease off and heckle him in the next breath?
The difference is all in the growing up--the kind of boyhood joshing Riku looks back on with nostalgic warmth is as foreign to him as Riku himself, all starlight silvers and bright eyes. There'd been Bale, who would've said anything to anyone if it put him ahead. And Tate, the pair of them bonded by confinement. Castor would've killed him as soon as look at him, and Eli? He'd been the most friendly with Eli out of all the loyal dark ones, but he'd also been Eli's superior. He wouldn't say he'd had the sort of relationship with any of them that had allowed for this.
Except for maybe Tilda, and that's a startling comparison with her so close to the surface of his thoughts.]
Nobody asked you. [Oh so very petulant!] What do you even want?
[Taking aim at Riku is as good an excuse as any to ignore the spirit as long as he can--a failed effort, as it tugs at him again, wanting acknowledgement from the one who taught him the new drawing in the first place. He presses his lips together, still fixing the top of Riku's head with a dark look, but when he relents, it's with a noticeable milder tone.]
Yeah, that's right. It's... [Nostalgic in its own way.] ... good. It's good.
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The difference is all in the growing up--the kind of boyhood joshing Riku looks back on with nostalgic warmth is as foreign to him as Riku himself, all starlight silvers and bright eyes. There'd been Bale, who would've said anything to anyone if it put him ahead. And Tate, the pair of them bonded by confinement. Castor would've killed him as soon as look at him, and Eli? He'd been the most friendly with Eli out of all the loyal dark ones, but he'd also been Eli's superior. He wouldn't say he'd had the sort of relationship with any of them that had allowed for this.
Except for maybe Tilda, and that's a startling comparison with her so close to the surface of his thoughts.]
Nobody asked you. [Oh so very petulant!] What do you even want?
[Taking aim at Riku is as good an excuse as any to ignore the spirit as long as he can--a failed effort, as it tugs at him again, wanting acknowledgement from the one who taught him the new drawing in the first place. He presses his lips together, still fixing the top of Riku's head with a dark look, but when he relents, it's with a noticeable milder tone.]
Yeah, that's right. It's... [Nostalgic in its own way.] ... good. It's good.