I've yet to see you try something and not succeed, Quentin, don't be silly. [It's said with immense fondness as Koby rummages through the bag, which has the usual shapes of books and pens and paper. He pauses entirely when Quentin pulls his shirt off, eyes widening a bit even though this has to be the hundredth he's seen this particular man shirtless. Then again, Koby also sees the sunrise every day and that never stops taking his breath away.
But then the words, the slight furrow in Quentin’s brow register, and Koby winces, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, face turning red.] I -- I really have been, haven't I. I'm sorry. [He sighs, shoving his glasses up into his hair and rubbing at his blushing face for a moment.] I'm not...good at doing things, for people. Nice things. I wish I were, but I haven't done them often enough to be nice instead of weird, so. So I'm sorry.
[Another sigh, then Koby tugs a pair of somewhat outdated, over-the-ear headphones out of his bag, borrowed (just borrowed, promise) from the library. They're meant to be used to listen to tapes, CDs, but they're able to be used with the phones as well. Koby knows, because he's made sure. He offers them, still blushing.] It's just -- something I found, I put it on my phone and you can hear best with these, but...
[But he thinks about Quentin clinging to him, that colorful, nightmarish night, about what he'd said the Regent had done -- "Blindfolded me so that I couldn’t see where we were, what we were doing" -- and the headphones aren't the same, but they're close, close enough, and Koby finishes, a little unsure:] But you can't hear anything else when they're on so I wanted to...make sure that was okay. That you were okay.
[Because that panic, that fear, that mindless horror -- Koby knows it'll come back, that it never really leaves. But he never wants it to be because he was thoughtless or careless. Ever.]
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But then the words, the slight furrow in Quentin’s brow register, and Koby winces, squeezing his eyes shut for a moment, face turning red.] I -- I really have been, haven't I. I'm sorry. [He sighs, shoving his glasses up into his hair and rubbing at his blushing face for a moment.] I'm not...good at doing things, for people. Nice things. I wish I were, but I haven't done them often enough to be nice instead of weird, so. So I'm sorry.
[Another sigh, then Koby tugs a pair of somewhat outdated, over-the-ear headphones out of his bag, borrowed (just borrowed, promise) from the library. They're meant to be used to listen to tapes, CDs, but they're able to be used with the phones as well. Koby knows, because he's made sure. He offers them, still blushing.] It's just -- something I found, I put it on my phone and you can hear best with these, but...
[But he thinks about Quentin clinging to him, that colorful, nightmarish night, about what he'd said the Regent had done -- "Blindfolded me so that I couldn’t see where we were, what we were doing" -- and the headphones aren't the same, but they're close, close enough, and Koby finishes, a little unsure:] But you can't hear anything else when they're on so I wanted to...make sure that was okay. That you were okay.
[Because that panic, that fear, that mindless horror -- Koby knows it'll come back, that it never really leaves. But he never wants it to be because he was thoughtless or careless. Ever.]