You do not have an inability to create connection.
She was vaguely focused towards him, awaiting a response to what had already been released, but those opening words would send her abruptly glancing away, staring at the surface of her tea to hide the automatic dissent that would surely bubble in her eyes at such an incorrect assessment. For of course she did. She was uniquely predisposed to it. She was raised apart from her people. She could not make connections to the land, even if she saw the rolling tides in her mind’s eye and yearned for them, for it was not her land. She could not make connections to the people, for they were not hers, and would gladly claim forgetfulness than ever admit she had been a part of their lives. And where she may have created connection regardless automatically otherwise, she had been trained to distance herself. If there was anyone in this world who was made for cutting connection, it would be her.
Yet here he sat, preaching the opposite, with a ferocity that claimed he believed it. It was almost tragic, in a way. He was simply a hopeful human, blinded by some good will, attempting to salvage what was long lost.
She would not correct him, of course. Allow him to believe as he would. They all ended up seeing whatever they wished to see either way.
And he admitted such, next words. Eyes narrowed so infinitesimally that even to her, it seemed the action may’ve simply been a ripple in the surface of her tea, not truly a shift on her part but a gentle step of the world around her. It seemed amusing, in some way. She was oft a mirror. Reflecting back to others what they offered. Being whoever they thought. No matter what she displayed or how she held herself, people always filled in her form with their own fantasies. There was nothing truly there, anyway, save for a vague outline. The emptiness in her was shrouded enough for people to imagine depth where it could not exist.
But Lloyd… was different. He… he recognized.
Altogether, it was nothing. We did not really match. I don’t hold it against her.
Eyes focused on him, suddenly, with unparalleled speed, colored dark and lined cool. Unrelenting gaze sought out, found him, sunk him completely in endless pools of black. It was not quite a glare, but it was certainly not anything else. It was not quite hard, but it would be near impossible for one to label it as gentle. It was not quite angry, but the lack in her eyes did not clearly communicate any other feeling. She stared at him as the truth was. Bold-faced. Free of feeling. Factual. Steady and unbending. Watching him as though his lies for levity sake were paper thin, and easily dissolvable when met with whatever force one would describe her as. Watching him as though she held the sorrow in her eyes that he would not allow in his tone. As though she held in her the pain that he acted had no claim over him. As though she were feeling the betrayal he would say never happened.
And then she blinked, and her eyes fell into what could only have been called disinterest as she focused on the world around her, instead. Stone cut and stacked into a walls and ceilings and floors. A still empty room. A silence that seemed to both speak and be utterly speechless.
She took another sip of her tea, and did not grimace – which would be impressive, perhaps, were you to know what it was she was drinking.
“There is no apology necessary where offense is not taken.” Her cup was still held to her lips, as though it were important it lingered nearby. “It is… khara.” She was not sure he would recognize the name. It had been rather unique to the people with whom she had been raised. “I would not recommend it. I believe you would no longer claim that I made good choices regarding tea were you to taste this one.” Still, she had left the pot of it with the others, here, in a common area. Someone was bound to stumble upon it by accident, most likely…
Perhaps his words were all contradicting and juxtaposed, but Lloyd wouldn’t attempt to word it differently, or change anything he said. He’d meant it, and spoken honestly, even if it was more than a little jumbled. She seemed strangely good at doing that to him. Like dice being shaken up in a cup before dumped out, nothing set in how they would turn out once cast. Aella didn’t even mean to cause such things, like Linus might try in order to get a rise out of him -- it was vastly different with her, and an effect that seemed wholly unnoticed by the woman herself.
She felt like a game of chance, and the stakes were worth the risk to him.
Her dark gaze was averted from him now, staring at her tea like it was far deeper than the small cup that held it. It was difficult to tell if she was merely listening, sorting words and meanings out in her mind, or if he had trod clumsily onto sore territory. Until she lifted her gaze unexpectedly, and he was caught off guard by the sheer depth that her eyes held. It hit him like a physical blow, sent him tumbling into the black sky that made up her eyes. It made him flinch, the emotions he felt reflected back at him with pinpoint precision and pressure, and Lloyd found himself submitting to the intensity, ducking his head down until he felt the weight of her gaze shift away.
Breath left him in a shaky whisper, eyes closed as he processed what had just transpired.
“...Perhaps. And while I’m relieved to hear that you took no offense, I don’t wish to get in the habit of thrusting my own thoughts and emotions off on you,” Lloyd murmured, glancing back up to her for a moment, before letting his eyes drift to the tea. Khara -- not overly familiar, likely a name he had heard maybe once or twice in conversations long logged away and forgotten about.
“That almost sounds like a challenge, and you never know what you’ll like or dislike if you never try it. Besides...you’ve yet to disappoint with your teas, Aella.” She’d gone through the trouble to make options available, and there was no one else around at the moment, so why waste good tea while it was still hot?
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