the art of trust // storm + eden, post-91st
Jul 20, 2023 17:20:09 GMT -5
Post by lance on Jul 20, 2023 17:20:09 GMT -5
God, why is he like this? He's been home for all of, what, a month? And yet it feels like years because who the hell is he to just, like, completely unload on a stranger like this? It's one thing when he babbles in front of his siblings and his parents, they're used to it for heaven's sake, but this guy most definitely did not sign up for this and if Storm wasn't already considering just sinking into the floor he'd probably just-
A flash of silver abruptly jolts him out of his thoughts, and for one wild second pure panic overwhelms his system. This is it. The strange hot man has finally decided I'm too annoying and he's gonna stab me and oh god-
-and just as quickly he's re-anchored to reality as the next thing he sees isn't the crimson of his own blood but the stark orange of a vegetable. And no, Hot Tattooed Man isn't stabbing him, but holding out the knife. For him.
(That's a first. For obvious reasons, he hadn't yet been allowed near knives ever since coming back home.)
Storm blinks. Then blinks again. The expression on the man's face isn't quite readable, but he gets the gist - wary, a little panicked in his own right, pity-
Except it isn't the kind of pity he'd seen on the many faces around Nine, the kind of pity that's like oh, poor thing, suffering from the consequences of his own actions. No, this is the sort of pity he's seen only on the television, when the heavily makeuped Capitolite actor is looking at a cat that's gone half an hour too long without being fed.
And right. Growth spurt or not, murderer of five or not, he's still just a kid. A kid whose own emotions are impossible to conceal, a kid who must have stirred the heart of this strange man just enough to accidentally coerce him into letting Storm have what he wants.
A few months ago, it'd be the result of a successful prank slash emotional manipulation (look, Storm found out long ago that his status as the almost-baby of the Adroxis family and a good pair of puppy eyes could get him a long way, so this wouldn't be anything new). What is new is that this time, that hadn't been the intent whatsoever. He'd genuinely been in here looking for Avriel, genuinely had gotten squirreled by the idea of, well, whatever was going on in the kitchen, and whomever this was had decided to take pity on him.
It's the first time that such pity doesn't feel condescending.
The burning retreats to his ears and makes its home there, even as Storm averts eye contact upon taking the knife. "Thank you," he murmurs, because shit, now he's almost embarrassed, but he finds that he means it, genuinely. "You, uh, you didn't have to do that."
But he appreciates the gesture regardless. And so carefully, he begins to slice into the carrot.