...yeah, I know. My little brother wasn't from the same place either. Different story, same ending.
[ Jaime shrugs. He's sad for her, of course, but when he mentions his little brother, he manages to maintain remarkably level. It's not feigned, either. He knows so much about the horrible things that people went back to that Ken is the one person he manages not to be sad about, even if he misses the kid horribly; he knows Ken overcomes all that's been thrown his way and is well and alive where he's from. That's good enough for him. Maybe he's not there with him, but as long as Ken continues to be the survivor he knows he is, then he can rest easy.
A little brother's different from a dad, though. ]
I'm sorry anyway. I didn't drag you over here so I could get you to rehash all this again. Let's just... watch TV.
[ If they keep talking, it will keep spiraling back to unpleasantness. Maybe it's because of who they are and what they share, but Jaime prefers to think of it as something that's just in her mood right now; when you're already struggling, sometimes it's difficult to keep your mind from wandering.
When he turns up the volume, he looks at Ruka, quiet and miserable as she is. He would have hugged anyone else by now, but it's always felt different with her, as though he should wait for an express invitation.
After a moment's deliberation, he wraps his arm around her shoulders anyway, squeezing her shoulder once before letting go. As with their every conversation, there's wiggle room. If she wants to slip away, there's plenty of room, but if she wants to stay... well, that's okay too. And if it feels a little different, it shouldn't. Jaime's done this to a hundred people on this couch before. It's just what being a good friend's about, sometimes. ]
I would like to point out this is BEFORE he figured out them dokis
[ Jaime shrugs. He's sad for her, of course, but when he mentions his little brother, he manages to maintain remarkably level. It's not feigned, either. He knows so much about the horrible things that people went back to that Ken is the one person he manages not to be sad about, even if he misses the kid horribly; he knows Ken overcomes all that's been thrown his way and is well and alive where he's from. That's good enough for him. Maybe he's not there with him, but as long as Ken continues to be the survivor he knows he is, then he can rest easy.
A little brother's different from a dad, though. ]
I'm sorry anyway. I didn't drag you over here so I could get you to rehash all this again. Let's just... watch TV.
[ If they keep talking, it will keep spiraling back to unpleasantness. Maybe it's because of who they are and what they share, but Jaime prefers to think of it as something that's just in her mood right now; when you're already struggling, sometimes it's difficult to keep your mind from wandering.
When he turns up the volume, he looks at Ruka, quiet and miserable as she is. He would have hugged anyone else by now, but it's always felt different with her, as though he should wait for an express invitation.
After a moment's deliberation, he wraps his arm around her shoulders anyway, squeezing her shoulder once before letting go. As with their every conversation, there's wiggle room. If she wants to slip away, there's plenty of room, but if she wants to stay... well, that's okay too. And if it feels a little different, it shouldn't. Jaime's done this to a hundred people on this couch before. It's just what being a good friend's about, sometimes. ]