Prompt, as requested, even though you already unofficially agreed to it:
Selkie I'm sorry it took me so long to write this but I hope you like it!
Dinner was peaceful. Clark and Pa talked about grain yield per acre and Ma and Clark talked about canning tomatoes and Kon and Clark didn't talk about anything, except a few sentences about the weather and how dry it was.
Which was fine with Kon. Couldn't say the wrong thing if you didn't say anything at all.
So Kon sat in comfortable silence, and ate his green beans and pulled pork sandwich and drank lemonade and listened to Ma and Pa and Clark talk. He had to admit, it was actually kind of nice, listening to the three of them, chuckling at Pa's dry jokes and Clark's stories about the paper and Ma's gossip from the neighbors.
Almost like they were a real family.
Kon stood to help when Ma declared, "Well, let me get the dishes done and then we can go out on the porch and have brownies and ice cream."
"I'll give you a hand," Clark said, standing as well. He started to reach for the same plate as Kon, and Kon yanked his hand back on instinct.
Clark gave him an odd look.
Kon ducked his head and reached for a glass, trying to act like he’d been meaning to reach for the glass anyway. God, he was such a loser. Put him in a room with Clark and it was like he’d just crawled out of the test tube, not sure which way was up.
“So, Kon,” Clark started, and Kon’s heartrate spiked and he flinched so hard the glass in his hand shattered.
Kon’s mouth dropped open in shock as he stared at the shattered glass all over the table.
“Oh dear, everyone all right?” Ma asked, hurrying for a towel. The inch or so of water in the glass was now dripping off the table onto the floor. “Nobody move, I don’t want glass in anyone’s foot.” Then she paused, and laughed. “Nevermind, I heard it as soon as I said it.”
Clark floated a few inches off the ground, reaching out to lift Ma. “Your feet are the ones I’m worried about,” he said.
“Sorry, Ma,” Kon said sheepishly, his hands feeling a little numb. “I don’t know what came over me.”
He started picking up the pieces of glass on the table. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clark giving him an odd look as he carried Ma out of the dining room, but he ignored it, just like he ignored the pounding of blood in his ears as he picked up shards of glass.
“Here, waste basket,” Clark said at his elbow. Kon dropped his handful of glass into the basket, feeling a bit stupid. Why couldn’t he just be normal? Instead, he had to freak out every time Clark so much as looked at him. He was just so nervous.
“Look, Kon,” Clark started, speaking quietly. It was just them in the room; Ma had carried an armload of dishes into the kitchen, getting them out of Kon and Clark’s way. “I know things are a bit… tense? Between us, and I know I haven’t exactly been the most welcoming to you, but I don’t want things to stay that way.
Kon swallowed. ‘Tense’ was a nice word for how he felt around Clark. But Clark was trying to reach out and make things better, so… maybe he should try?
“Yeah, okay. Me too,” he said. He glanced up at Clark. Clark had a hopeful half-smile on his face that sent a warm feeling scurrying through Kon’s chest.
Ma broke the spell, bustling back in with a dishrag to wipe the table down with. “If you boys are done, you can go help Pa dish out the ice cream. His wrist’s hurting him again, not that he’d admit to it.”
“Alright, Ma,” Kon said, at the same time as Clark. They shot each other a look, a tentative grin spreading across Kon’s face when he heard Clark laugh.
They headed towards the kitchen, Ma muttering behind them, “Lord, but they do sound the same.”
Yeah, they kinda did, Kon thought. And maybe that was okay.
