the act of dying certainly hadn't been pleasant. it hadn't lasted very long, but it had been painful, more painful than steven would have ever predicted -- physically, of course, but also emotionally, mentally. he's faced death a thousand times and not one of these experiences had done enough to prepare him for when the time finally came. even if it didn't stick.
it had been bad. but the after? waking up in the mist filled streets of the abyss, trudging his way back to the city proper, back to an apartment that still technically isn't his, no longer some unholy creature but a living, breathing person, more exhausted than he's ever been in his life. this tension that hangs in the air every time klaus is anywhere near him? this is worse, actually. because he knows what's running through klaus' head, no words needed. the big guy is tormenting himself and steven is sick of it. no more.
"Klaus," he tries to keep his voice softer than his wont, gentler. opening with something like we need to talk is only going to make things worse, he knows. but for once in his life he doesn't know what he's supposed to say, exactly.
it wasn't you? i don't blame you? like that would help. it wouldn't help him were the situations reversed.
klaus is still paying more attention to his little online chess game ( because this world doesn't have prosfair, of course ) than him. steven frowns.
"You going to keep ignoring me or what?" it's not an accusation -- klaus is hardly the inattentive one in their relationship. but it probably falls a little flat as a joke, given the situation.