[ He's lost her entierly, though she does try to follow along. He's looking at her at least, that's... Probably a start. She is entierly out of her depth here, but she forges ahead anyway. ]
I don't understand... What do you mean by context?
Context is everything. It determines how you act and when, the words you use, who you are -- you can't just exist in a vacuum. It's impossible. And it's so easy to lose track of who you're supposed to be when you're neither here nor there...
[ miles lets himself trail off as he realizes where he's going with this, and he coughs, embarrassed. dammit, he's supposed to be helping her here. he lets out a self-conscious laugh. ]
Sorry, I've lost you. I don't usually wear my crazy on my sleeve like that. [ he gives her a rueful smile with a touch of well-worn self-deprecation. ] Don't worry about it.
[ he glances back at his desk where he assumes not-sans still is, seeing nothing, but not without understanding. he clasps lara's hand a little tighter. ]
Anyway -- you can stay here as long as you like. If you like. I mean -- I'm not going to make you stay, but if you need... [ anything? ] If you need to, you can hang out in here. I don't mind.
[ She smiles, a ghost of the ones she gave him last night, but still there. ]
You're my friend. I'm afraid worrying about you comes with the territory. [ She's said it already, but it bears repeating, because being a friend to her means.. So many things. More than she knows how to put into words. Not-Sans voice pushes at her mind, but the words don't break through. Lara lifts their joined hands and presses a soft, dry kiss to the back of Miles'. A confirmation and a promise of all the things she can't put into words (Like he wants that from some crazy chick). ]
[ ah, that smile -- he'd like to bring it out of her in full again, watch her face bloom with warmth like it had last night. it teases a faint echo of his own smile, his chest swelling a little at the chaste press of her lips to the back of his hand. oh, he's well-versed in hearing the unspoken. ]
Likewise. I've resigned myself to it.
[ he gives her a wry little smile, a quirk of the lips. he returns the gesture, lifting her hand to his lips to press a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles. but he wasn't expecting that entreaty from her, that honest desire to know -- most people don't. largely because when miles is crazy in other people's direction, they tend to steer away, which is fair. there's a moment of muted surprise on his face before he blinks it away with a little twinge in his chest, because he knows he's said too much now. dammit. but that someone else to know...
he wonders if lara would like admiral naismith. ]
I don't know how much I can really say about it, but -- I'll try. [ there's no lie in those words. he'll tell her everything he can without giving himself away any more than he already has. he smiles just faintly. ] Thank you, Lara.
[ She nods, understanding. If she notices his surprise, she doesn't say anything. Given the amount of times Miles has unwittingly plunged feet first into the tangled mess of Lara's own mad grief and trauma, she wants to do something to ease a little of the weight of his own. ]
You're welcome.
[ From Miles' desk comes Not-Sans' derisive snort. Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics live in them, psychiatrists collect the rent. Lara resists the urge to pull a face at him, but the desk still gets a slight frown. ]
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no subject
I don't understand... What do you mean by context?
no subject
[ miles lets himself trail off as he realizes where he's going with this, and he coughs, embarrassed. dammit, he's supposed to be helping her here. he lets out a self-conscious laugh. ]
Sorry, I've lost you. I don't usually wear my crazy on my sleeve like that. [ he gives her a rueful smile with a touch of well-worn self-deprecation. ] Don't worry about it.
[ he glances back at his desk where he assumes not-sans still is, seeing nothing, but not without understanding. he clasps lara's hand a little tighter. ]
Anyway -- you can stay here as long as you like. If you like. I mean -- I'm not going to make you stay, but if you need... [ anything? ] If you need to, you can hang out in here. I don't mind.
no subject
You're my friend. I'm afraid worrying about you comes with the territory. [ She's said it already, but it bears repeating, because being a friend to her means.. So many things. More than she knows how to put into words. Not-Sans voice pushes at her mind, but the words don't break through. Lara lifts their joined hands and presses a soft, dry kiss to the back of Miles'. A confirmation and a promise of all the things she can't put into words (Like he wants that from some crazy chick). ]
Tell me later? Please. I want to understand.
no subject
Likewise. I've resigned myself to it.
[ he gives her a wry little smile, a quirk of the lips. he returns the gesture, lifting her hand to his lips to press a light kiss to the backs of her knuckles. but he wasn't expecting that entreaty from her, that honest desire to know -- most people don't. largely because when miles is crazy in other people's direction, they tend to steer away, which is fair. there's a moment of muted surprise on his face before he blinks it away with a little twinge in his chest, because he knows he's said too much now. dammit. but that someone else to know...
he wonders if lara would like admiral naismith. ]
I don't know how much I can really say about it, but -- I'll try. [ there's no lie in those words. he'll tell her everything he can without giving himself away any more than he already has. he smiles just faintly. ] Thank you, Lara.
no subject
You're welcome.
[ From Miles' desk comes Not-Sans' derisive snort. Neurotics build castles in the sky, psychotics live in them, psychiatrists collect the rent. Lara resists the urge to pull a face at him, but the desk still gets a slight frown. ]