You lean back in equally in reaction more than anything, if you were to catch yourself doing it you would freak out to the mirror reaction that just occurred without much effort or practice. You’re more caught up in him just being so excited for something like this, something that you don’t want to deal with because it was a mistake, and invasion of Karkat’s mind lane.
You are very weirded out, there is nothing amazing about a mistake, your mistake. There is nothing good about it. “It was a mistake and it will not happen again. He should not be involved with this, if there are things I know is that if there are ways to spare anyone from this mess I’ll take all roads necessary.” Who are you to dictate what horrors others sees. You would not wish Karkat visions, you would not wish him this, nothing of it. You will not try again unless you feel it has been enough time and you will tell Karkat about it next time.
Something softer washes on your face. That is unexpected, your posture visibly relaxes, your shoulders go down, your crossed arms starting to rest on yourself. Even the frown in your face transforms into confusion. You blink a couple times and look down, you search for words. Something vile and pungent that you know lays down there but there is no insult that could satisfy what you need of this conversation.
“And what made you get to that point? Was it me not wanting to talk to you anymore, was it the part where you broke my boundaries, or where I threw away my life’s work.” Everything is sharp and just exhausted, sarcasm comes out less as itself and more as an static point. Like this is a conversation you already had multiple times over and over, a mental script. “I wonder that of all things could have clued you into it.”
“Ah...” You look at a loss for a second, too-bright eyes searching his dismayed face for a clue in this whole thing. This is by now the longest interaction you’ve had with Kankri; you’re wading into uncharted territory of unknown body language, reactions, topics. “I know it was a mistake, I’m only saying that--well that ability at all is a skill that I didn’t know existed. I know you are careful about the weight you put on others, so I guess that’s why I’m not...worried about that kind of mistake. You of all people are equipped to tackle that kind of thing. But you discovered it after all. Isn’t that something at least?”
The silence stretches on, and you--no, you don’t feel tired. You thought you would. You thought you’d be exhausted by the conversation and what he would confront you with. And it hurts, it digs into you worse than the last time. But you don’t feel yourself shying away from it, and maybe that is a hopeful sign; you nod to him in everything he accuses you of.
“Well...yes. All of that. And probably even before that. As much as I have experience talking with so so many people, I never could have--I didn’t--I never knew how to prepare myself for this conversation. How to even have it. But my own... inexperience,” you say, a little self-conscious dry smile threatening to come onto your face over the irony of it, “shouldn’t have added to your worries.”
“It was unfair to you,” you say, even quieter until it’s just a hum between the two of you. “After all this time of this connection I ended up absorbed in my own perspective of things. What I thought was my perspective if your life.” You shake your head sharply, sitting back and nostrils flared as you exhale. “I’ve been thinking about it a lot, because I just--” You lick your lips, thinking again about it. Inexperience. You called him in need of more experience but you’re the one who doesn’t know how to talk to your own descendant.
“--...I hope whatever you do, you will be happy and successful in it. In growing something new, whatever it is. If it’s not for Alternia, then that’s fine. But you do have it in you for whatever it is, and I should have given more acknowledgement to that.”
