“It’s alright” catches Jaehyun’s attention and “it keeps people safe” makes his gaze sharpen unconsciously—like his pupils could turn to harsh, feline slits and cut a hole through Seunghyuk’s stiff, muddied expression. There is a wall between them and it will remain—it is this which Jaehyun cannot see through, and cannot find it within himself to reach past, either. It’s there for their safety, mutually, he would like to think (though he’s not so sure; he thinks it’s for him who’s bitter and vulnerable and weak underneath his mysterious mask, then thinks it’s more for Seunghyuk whose weakness is written in all the cracks in his expressions and fumbles between his words).
(He’s not sure which of them is weaker, which of them is pretending more—him, full of bluster, or Seunghyuk, painfully balling something up inside.)
Regardless, Jaehyun doesn’t show weakness—he orders a drink in the same deep, velvet voice as he always uses these days, Something with lavender—he won’t admit that he’s nervous, but any of his peers would know from the order alone that he is. Seunghyuk probably wouldn’t, though, so Jaehyun pays it no mind.
He finds himself scratching lightly at the side of his face as the silence ticks by; Seunghyuk wasn’t quite this awkward in the past, was he? A distant memory comes forth and the contrast unsettles him; this isn’t the kind of change he could’ve anticipated. The awkwardness feels heavy, now, and there’s a fleeting feeling of concern that briefly overcomes Jaehyun’s bitterness.
“Homestuck…?” he says quietly, finding it impossible not to have seen the name—and yet not understanding the relevance, The smile that reaches his lips at the mention of Seunghyuk’s dog is genuine, if a bit lopsided with confusion—endeared, more accurately, though Jaehyun is loathe to admit it. Indeed, he instead finds himself pushing the softer expressions down in favor of maintaining his cool—he’s trying to protect himself, but he’s always been soft.
The witch chuckles, shifting to cross his legs—leaning his chin lightly against his fingers. “I’m frankly uncertain of what I was asking,” he says quietly, honestly, “But you having a dog… it seems fitting, somehow.” And yet in the same thought Jaehyun’s heart sinks a bit—there was really nothing else to mention? Or is it possible that Seunghyuk is hiding something, lying? It’s hard to think that possible—Seunghyuk is transparent, in many ways, and Jaehyun has seen him at his worst—but he forcibly reminds himself that there is motivation to do such.
But Seunghyuk is flustered—and Jaehyun remains endeared, even as he tries his best to be cynical.
“Well—I suppose not so much has changed for me, either. I’ve continued my studies—” he tries not to stumble, but something in his tone catches strangely “—the same as ever, though I have recently completed the majority of them… though admittedly, ‘complete’ is a strange word, when study is a life-long process.” Jaehyun exhales a sigh, leaning back; it’s so strange, dodging the key words the same way he always has, but feeling confident enough with the ones he uses. “I’ve been working, as well, in wards and the like, though my specialties seem to lie elsewhere—properly pursuing such things takes time, though I’ve begun developing a clientele in my own way.” He’s rambling again—and unsure of how to stop himself.
For a moment he looks up at the ceiling, stares at one of the avant-garde light fixtures. He can’t just ask “do you hate me” in such simple terms—it’s not right, and besides that, the answer seems strangely obvious, yet hard to believe. (But if Seunghyuk doesn’t hate him, in specific, then does he hate everything supernatural? He says he’s keeping people safe—is he wrong, there? Is that really all?)
“But—I’m certain you don’t wish to hear more about what a witch does with his time,” he says in a tone that almost bites. “Professional and academic matters aside, I’ve been well,” silently, he admits to himself that elaborating beyond that is hard, “though I haven’t added any animal companions to my household, either.” He chuckles, though the joke isn’t really a joke at all; his gaze, curious but not cutting, serves as an invitation for Seunghyuk to continue speaking—about anything, Jaehyun thinks, besides the core tension at hand.
The fact that his life is unimpressive at best and pitiful at worst is something that only comes to mind once he spends so much time trying to think of it otherwise; it’s embarrassing in its own right, really, especially in front of Jaehyun like this, but he does his best to push the realization aside---it’s not something he can do much about, right now, given that all of his hobbies are just as unexciting as anything else is. Constantly taking refuge in one’s home would certainly exacerbate such---what would there be to speak about if truly, all the days blur within each other, some seeming all but unaccounted for at all, and everything else was centered around the details of his work? If he knows how to properly explain something like that, then he would---at least, he’d do so in a much better manner than he’d already had, where the lameness of his own admissions threatens to haunt his thoughts for the rest of the outing.
He swallows nerves down, rubs a palm against the side of his thigh. At least it keeps him from shifting in place so much.
A certain degree of weight lifts from his shoulders when Jaehyun approves (is that how he should interpret that? He doesn’t think it’s incorrect, at least---unless being the type to have a dog would have some negative meaning that he hadn’t been aware of, before. Is there anything like that anyway?) of Jade’s existence; it’s hard to imagine that even that could go wrong, but the gnawing in the back of his mind is incessant, and second-guessing himself in even such simple things had all but become commonplace for him over the years.
It’s part of why he holds his tongue, keeps himself from rambling on about Jade and how good of a girl she is; he thinks about it, though, pushing aside for a time to focus more on Jaehyun as the topic shifts to the other once more.
There’s an odd sort of tension within him that causes his fingers to involuntarily twitch as Jaehyun speaks---nothing’s new or surprising, and yet there’s something about it that further prevents Seunghyuk from truly relaxing (as if doing so would be so much as possible, even). It’s strange, even (or perhaps especially) to him---how such things carry no inherently ominous context, and yet its as though the words themselves have a similar feeling to such regardless.
He tries to ignore it, though---focusing on the fact that things don’t seem to be going bad right now is a start in that respect, and trying to see it in a good light, relying on how Jaehyun at least seems to be doing well despite the years manages to ease some of the coils wrapped around his muscles.
They don’t fade, not entirely---but he can at least take a moment to give a bit of a small, almost shy smile as he nods along.
(It shifts into something a touch more uncertain and uncomfortable with the brief silence, despite how he tries to keep it from doing so---reading Jaehyun had never truly been something he was capable of doing. Anticipating, maybe---some habits were common enough for even him to take notice---but that was in a time long ago, one they’ve both left behind.)
(He wonders if the sting he feels is from the way Jaehyun talks, or if it’s from the brief reminder of just why things have changed so much between them. He wonders, too, if he should try claiming otherwise---but the simple concept of doing so was much too far for him to consider. Lies were never much his specialty, even when they were only half so.)
It’s not until Jaehyun chuckles that Seunghyuk realizes that the latter half of the comment wasn’t as serious as he’d been taking it originally; the sound he makes in response is weak, but it’s a strange sort of awkward-sounding laugh, still---he’ll likely be kicking himself over the thought of what it might come across as later, if his immediate fidgeting afterwards has any indication of that.
“I’m glad,” he starts, with no lack of sincerity in his voice---in this, he can be honest. “That you’ve been alright. I...”
He doesn’t say anything for a while after trailing off, uncertain of what he was trying to say, what else he could say and how to even start; and he startles, almost, when the drinks make their way to the table, having been too momentarily preoccupied with trying to sort his thoughts.
When was the last time conversation relied on his input to continue? He sincerely can’t recall---his fidgeting shifts to another target for the moment, taking a sip of the drink he’d ordered after fumbling momentarily with the straw.
The moment the taste hits his tongue, his face scrunches up---a near offended yet confused expression takes over his features when he pulls away from it, and the realization that he has not the slightest idea of what flavor it’s meant to be comes to mind. He’d think to call it fitting, but instead he sighs lightly and labels it bad luck---still, though, he doesn’t make an effort to wave someone down over it. He’s got enough to try and tackle already---and maybe he should work on that soon, because the atmospheric chatter is doing nothing to assuage the awkward silence at their table.
“J-Jade---” silently, he curses the fact that finding his voice had a hidden agenda of causing him to stammer, too; all that nervousness slips through in ways that only serve to make him more so. “The dog---my dog, I mean. She was a stray but she’s a really good girl. Strays are... somehow they’re easy to pick up. They... make nice companions... ?” Again he flusters in his pausing, taking yet another sip of the drink he hadn’t liked on first taste. He still dislikes it now. “You---familiars? Or are those not... not like...”
It’s not the first time he’s tripped over himself in ways like this, but knowing that as fact doesn’t make it any easier to deal with; especially not now, and not with Jaehyun of all people. That being said, being unable to even so much as look his former best friend in the eyes for more than half a second only serves to leave some gut-twisting feeling in his stomach---especially as he gives up on speaking entirely, hoping that his embarrassment is at least somewhat salvageable.
