it peels back a little too much skin, how easy it is: to fall back into that silent language, or to the push-pull of non-verbal communication when there’s a kid in the room. ( kids are smart. mike’s more observant than most. it wouldn’t surprise him if mike’s picked up on static in the room. but kids are self-absorbed, too - rarely listening to anything that isn’t loud enough to be targeted at them. )
‘ - alright. ’ the beat of hesitation is a polite hovering of uncertainty; as much as recognition. for coffee is deliberately delimited. whether he’s being offered an out or kept at arm’s length - there’s a sense in his stomach that it’s both, even if michael can’t quite admit it to himself.
mike nods somewhere in the back of alex’s quiet, cutting things off at the pass before alex can think anything much too loudly about david. ( but they’ve already had that conversation, too. ) ‘ yeah. ’ mike shifts his weight, settles differently, picks up a different coloured crayon. ‘ they talk too much. ’
in spite of himself, a smile, airless huff, cracks open on alex’s teeth, startled-amused. muted: ‘ tell me about it, kid. ’
mike is observant, in the same ways that michael is. michael thinks he will probably have the same long and selective memory, too. by contrast to michael’s own experiences, though, sara is a good parent. there shouldn’t have to be years of repression and panic attacks and a fierce, frightening, frightened need for control that michael has been through. between sara, a good psychologist, and a steady home environment - maybe everything that jacob did and set into motion will be a bad memory but not a haunting one.
michael hums. “ yeah, they do. you two had the right idea. ” lj and whip get along a little - too well, in a way michael feels like he should’ve anticipated, given how close in age they are. it’s not bad, but it is a lot. more than michael knows how to consciously deal with. ( it keeps happening, something like this, where he settles at a distance from everyone else, looking at them and feeling a prickling disconnect. at least in some way - mike and alex feel it too. )
“ everyone is gonna head home before long. ” michael glances at the clock on the wall. he abruptly realises he doesn’t know what time sara puts mike to bed. he doesn’t - he’s not - here enough, yet. “ then it’ll be me, your mom, and alex. ” he blinks at alex with a half-warm smile and then down at mike. “ speaking of. i’m too old to sit on the floor for long, buddy. you good here ? - alex ? ”
in all senses he wants to be able to sit and talk to alex without treating mike like some object immediately between them, so it’s half a cue for the other to join him as he clambers to his feet and moves to the couch. in only some senses it’s that michael is achey; distant throb in his skull, slightly unsteady feet, the thing in his head that he doesn’t like to talk about bothering him as much as all the noise is.
theartofmadeline
origamiaround
kianamaiart
turnnoffyourmind
