[ karen's thoughts start to spiral - to places she's never been, lives she'll never live, but she does wonder. about war, about children, about the past tense and the heaviness he carries with him. she recognizes that look, knows what those bent shoulders might mean, even if he doesn't say anything more about how or what or why. it feels almost too familiar to reach out and grab his wrist, though the paths that brought them here feel so different. so impossibly altered.
she watches him in the silence that follows, telling herself that it's not the same, they're not the same, but she still needs to listen. she has a point of reference, maybe, for the degree of pain he's lived through, but nothing concrete. nothing her's. when she squeezes his wrist, it's in support, it's because she wants to be there for him, and that's all she really thinks about then.
not whether or not the facts of his life match, not how some things he said about what he's done, where he's been, are confusing. those are all true, yes, but recognizes that those things don't really matter to her. of the things she's seen, of the things that have happened to her, whether or not he worked at a school is hardly far up on the list of things she's actually having trouble wrapping her head around.
he is watching their hands for long enough that karen squeezes, once, to let him know that this is a choice. even though it's a moment later that his eyes go to her face, that he says-
I'm not who you think I am.
that... it doesn't startle her, exactly, but there is a sudden sort of tension that shoots through her at the words. as she looks into his eyes, she frowns. another second passes, and then a third, before she pulls her hand back a bit cautiously. it's a strange place for her to be in, her gut telling her that there's nothing to worry about, but the words, her experiences, setting off every red flag possible the moment he says that. ]
What's that supposed to mean?
[ because whether or not she means it to, her thoughts go to matt. to that evening in the office, when he told her about being the masked man, about being daredevil. of course the memories has her thinking back to their every conversation, every interaction - there's no masked man here who had saved her from certain death, no vigilante who she doesn't know but trusts. no one he could have lied to her about being, no one logan could have been but presented himself otherwise.
that is the reason for most of her expression - confusion - at the fact she doesn't know what he means, who it is he thinks she thought he was. and who it is he's supposed to be, instead, except for what she's seen.
unfortunately for logan, her response isn't in reaction to him - so much as she feels like she's been here before, been lied to before. and now she's worried - or, no, not worried, but unsure - of how stupid she's been, how she must have made a fool of herself. the embarrassment, really, is the main factor for her sudden tension. ]
Logan- [ she cuts herself off, her hands going to her lap as her eyes go down to her hands - thinks about his, about tugging him from hut to hut, about how often she has thought out reaching out to him but has held back...
and then her eyes go back to him - her jaw stubborn, set. like she's fighting herself, somewhere in these brief moments. no matter what, no matter what, there is a voice in the back of her head that tells her to wait. to give him a chance. ]
no subject
she watches him in the silence that follows, telling herself that it's not the same, they're not the same, but she still needs to listen. she has a point of reference, maybe, for the degree of pain he's lived through, but nothing concrete. nothing her's. when she squeezes his wrist, it's in support, it's because she wants to be there for him, and that's all she really thinks about then.
not whether or not the facts of his life match, not how some things he said about what he's done, where he's been, are confusing. those are all true, yes, but recognizes that those things don't really matter to her. of the things she's seen, of the things that have happened to her, whether or not he worked at a school is hardly far up on the list of things she's actually having trouble wrapping her head around.
he is watching their hands for long enough that karen squeezes, once, to let him know that this is a choice. even though it's a moment later that his eyes go to her face, that he says-
I'm not who you think I am.
that... it doesn't startle her, exactly, but there is a sudden sort of tension that shoots through her at the words. as she looks into his eyes, she frowns. another second passes, and then a third, before she pulls her hand back a bit cautiously. it's a strange place for her to be in, her gut telling her that there's nothing to worry about, but the words, her experiences, setting off every red flag possible the moment he says that. ]
What's that supposed to mean?
[ because whether or not she means it to, her thoughts go to matt. to that evening in the office, when he told her about being the masked man, about being daredevil. of course the memories has her thinking back to their every conversation, every interaction - there's no masked man here who had saved her from certain death, no vigilante who she doesn't know but trusts. no one he could have lied to her about being, no one logan could have been but presented himself otherwise.
that is the reason for most of her expression - confusion - at the fact she doesn't know what he means, who it is he thinks she thought he was. and who it is he's supposed to be, instead, except for what she's seen.
unfortunately for logan, her response isn't in reaction to him - so much as she feels like she's been here before, been lied to before. and now she's worried - or, no, not worried, but unsure - of how stupid she's been, how she must have made a fool of herself. the embarrassment, really, is the main factor for her sudden tension. ]
Logan- [ she cuts herself off, her hands going to her lap as her eyes go down to her hands - thinks about his, about tugging him from hut to hut, about how often she has thought out reaching out to him but has held back...
and then her eyes go back to him - her jaw stubborn, set. like she's fighting herself, somewhere in these brief moments. no matter what, no matter what, there is a voice in the back of her head that tells her to wait. to give him a chance. ]