Leaning forward, Nikolai grabbed his cup and blew softly into it before taking an experimental sip, testing the temperature. Not hot enough to burn his tongue, so he sunk back into her couch, coffee in hand, and dropped his head against the back of the couch, staring up at the ceiling as if that would help order his thoughts. To be fair, it might. Mindlessly staring at the blank space of the ceiling often did make it easier to slot his thoughts into place. Sometimes it helped him treat everyone’s thoughts swirling around him as the white noise that he wanted them to be.
Precognition. Her words prompted him to consider that particular gift, the guilt of not seeing something despite it being out of your control. Nothing could make him envy her. The brief unclear flashes of the future that his psychometry very occasionally provided were disorienting and unbidden, almost never useful. Seeing the future seemed profoundly unreliable. Not to mention unsettling. Though not usually one for physical contact, he patted her shoulder reassuringly. Knowing it wasn’t your fault and feeling it wasn’t your fault were two completely different issues, often unrelated to each other.
But before he articulated his two cents on the matter, she addressed the other thing contributing to his tiring week. His hand moved from her shoulder to his face, covering his eyes as he groaned aloud. Emmy, it’s not… He sighed and tried to think through what he meant. His hand waved about, gesturing indistinctly in the air, not conveying anything but settling his mind in some small way.
You know me. I don’t think… Well, I’m not convinced that I’m cut out for a relationship. That’s not even on the table right now. Sipping his coffee, Nikolai straightened his posture slightly and lifted his arm to rest on the back of the couch. I don’t know how I’m supposed to act around him. Hell, I don’t even know how I’m supposed to feel around him anymore. That was painfully true. First, all that time spent hurting, missing his lover with the sort of ache that left him feeling empty inside. Transforming all of that into anger had been so much easier. He became sharper in the process, more focused. Upon Asher’s return, everything knotted up into a tangle of emotions he wasn’t terribly keen on sorting through. Texting him was so easy, almost like we were friends again.
The confessional tone of his thoughts was starting to bother him. Worse still, it sounded like babbling, like he couldn't stop his train of thought. He was a grown man who could work through this himself, not some teenager, so he switched gears. Sorry. I will accept your offer for help, however, should the need arise.