[Darin was trying his best not to spare glances Zelda's way when she looked at the message. He was committed to the bit; look cool and stoic and detached, all the while blatantly ignoring the fact that the deep crimson blush had reached his ears. Zelda was still sobering up. There's no way she'd notice! (She did, in fact, notice.)]
[But it's the hug that, of all things, Darin wasn't expecting. Over a photo? Of him declaring to be her friend? Darin's about to protest as he looks down incredulously at the top of Zelda's head, muscles tensing up like steel cords and slabs...]
[But, then he remembers the look on her face in the hotel room. Of the uncertainty and the sadness. He remembers the look of hope she'd given him when she asked him if he counted himself among the friends he was so sure she'd have no trouble making. And maybe he'd assumed too much. Maybe Zelda, as kind and cheerful as she was...]
[...Was a lot more similar to himself than he cared to admit.]
[After all, Darin's no stranger to loneliness. And the way he acts? He does it all to hide so much of who he really is that it's a wonder he doesn't think he's a different person altogether sometimes. Darin remembers how overjoyed he was when Acteon took him under his wing. The elation he felt when Kessler said he'd train him and teach him how to fight. The only two times in his life where Darin felt accepted for who he was.]
[Until now.]
[Come to think of it, Darin can't remember the last time he was hugged. Acteon was a good father but a little standoffish when it came to physical affection. No, the last time he was genuinely hugged was...]
[There's a painful lump in his throat that forms reflexively as he thinks on the sad state of his life. One that he has to swallow so that it lands in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone. A slow exhale and the mask comes back up again. Awkwardly, he pats Zelda on the back (the urge to give her a real hug back was intensely strong but he has an image to maintain) and then places a hand on her shoulder. He doesn't move her away, at least. If she wants to cling to him a bit, he'll make weak complaints that are all bluster. At this point, he's pretty sure she's figured him out.]
So...
[He clears his throat to draw her attention upward to his face.]
...Wanna hop on my back so I can bring us back down? I think all of this...uh. Experimentation's given me an appetite.
no subject
[But it's the hug that, of all things, Darin wasn't expecting. Over a photo? Of him declaring to be her friend? Darin's about to protest as he looks down incredulously at the top of Zelda's head, muscles tensing up like steel cords and slabs...]
[But, then he remembers the look on her face in the hotel room. Of the uncertainty and the sadness. He remembers the look of hope she'd given him when she asked him if he counted himself among the friends he was so sure she'd have no trouble making. And maybe he'd assumed too much. Maybe Zelda, as kind and cheerful as she was...]
[...Was a lot more similar to himself than he cared to admit.]
[After all, Darin's no stranger to loneliness. And the way he acts? He does it all to hide so much of who he really is that it's a wonder he doesn't think he's a different person altogether sometimes. Darin remembers how overjoyed he was when Acteon took him under his wing. The elation he felt when Kessler said he'd train him and teach him how to fight. The only two times in his life where Darin felt accepted for who he was.]
[Until now.]
[Come to think of it, Darin can't remember the last time he was hugged. Acteon was a good father but a little standoffish when it came to physical affection. No, the last time he was genuinely hugged was...]
[There's a painful lump in his throat that forms reflexively as he thinks on the sad state of his life. One that he has to swallow so that it lands in the pit of his stomach like a heavy stone. A slow exhale and the mask comes back up again. Awkwardly, he pats Zelda on the back (the urge to give her a real hug back was intensely strong but he has an image to maintain) and then places a hand on her shoulder. He doesn't move her away, at least. If she wants to cling to him a bit, he'll make weak complaints that are all bluster. At this point, he's pretty sure she's figured him out.]
So...
[He clears his throat to draw her attention upward to his face.]
...Wanna hop on my back so I can bring us back down? I think all of this...uh. Experimentation's given me an appetite.
Want to get some food?
[He flashes her his trademark grin.]