He wasn’t given much of a choice on the matter of ATTENDING. Iverson made it clear that the expectation was there. That he needed to be present to greet the returning cadets -- and Shiro. That. That’s the part that gives him pause, standing back away from the rest of them, a face in a line praying Shiro won’t even notice him. ( What would be WORSE? To be noticed or passed over without a second thought? His mind answers with ease but his heart is UNSURE. )
Is it horrible not to run and greet him or simply expected? Iverson gives him a STARE of disapproval as he approaches them FONDLY, but Adam never budges from the back of the crowd. REUNIONS, cherished loved ones finding each other again -- he doesn’t belong in this.
He thinks he can be strong enough not to look -- but he does. He can’t help but look and he finds Shiro’s eyes over the crowd, drawn to him with an ease as though he hasn’t changed. (He’s SELF - CONSCIOUS under those eyes. He rips his gaze away as though he’s been burned even from dozens of feet of DISTANCE. Fuck. )
White is a good color on him -- and he notices the arm, or, that is to say the lack of one immediately and is SICK beneath the revelation. Shiro wears his scars with a sort of GRACE Adam can’t manage. He doesn’t wait around long enough to see what else happens. The minute that he can, he slips away back into the base and ardently avoids Shiro’s path. ( He’ll be busy with debriefings and meetings for a bit, that buys him some TIME -- time while he runs from this, too. )
Running from this, it turns out, is significantly harder than running from the rest of his problems. Shiro is in the halls and in meetings, and his expression wavers between the desire to talk and the desire to give him space. Adam can’t help but think that’s a very Shiro disposition to have, even as he pivots on his heel to go in the opposite direction as he sees him down one hall.
Logically, he knows he can’t run forever. One of the MFE Pilots remarks to him that he should just face it. ( It was Rizavi. She can’t keep her nose out of his private life. ) He makes them run extra drills just for the trouble.
She is however correct, in the end. The base is only so big and they’re both playing important rolls in this war. He can’t avoid Shiro forever. He’s pouring his third cup of coffee over a sleepless night when Shiro wanders into the lounge -- Adam immediately bristles, but there’s no way to escape just now without appearing hostile, and he knows it. He doesn’t want that -- he doesn’t have any hostility to give, he just doesn’t want deal with the fallout. So he looks up, meets his eyes, and turns them back to the BLACK sludge in his cup, the mug warm under cold hands-- and says nothing.
