It’s not your fault. [It comes promptly, perhaps in response to how there’s a gap in his own chest, where that newfound ability to sense people, to feel their presences moving about like flickers of color and light – that’s all gone now, Alina’s normal warm, bright, sunlit color snuffed out. Koby almost wants to reach out, touch her, feel her, see if she’s actually real and not some sort of trick.
But instead he crosses his arms tightly over his chest, an old, reflexive, protective habit, shoulders scrunched up to his ears, and he repeats:] It’s not. This place is all – wrong, it’s supposed to make us confused. The stars are different, and they don’t stay in the same places and I can’t…feel anyone outside the maze. I can’t even feel you, and you’re right in front of me.
[A pause, one hand slowly rubbing up and down his upper arm, another of those self-soothing gestures, nervous twitches that come out when Koby’s anxious, when he’s revealing more than he might normally.] I was learning to do that, to feel where people are. Maybe Mal could do something similar, but…it’s like that’s all been turned off, as soon as we came in here.
But not everything’s been changed. You can still do – other things, can’t you. [It’s a statement, not a question; if Alina is as lost as he is, and the night is getting colder, being able to generate light and heat could mean safety, comfort, survival. Koby’s gaze is intent, unflinching, even as he scrunches in on himself, even as he starts to shiver from how cold the night’s turning.] You don’t have to explain it, and I won’t ever mention it again, once we’re out of here. But if – something happens, something tries to attack, could you help defend us?
no subject
But instead he crosses his arms tightly over his chest, an old, reflexive, protective habit, shoulders scrunched up to his ears, and he repeats:] It’s not. This place is all – wrong, it’s supposed to make us confused. The stars are different, and they don’t stay in the same places and I can’t…feel anyone outside the maze. I can’t even feel you, and you’re right in front of me.
[A pause, one hand slowly rubbing up and down his upper arm, another of those self-soothing gestures, nervous twitches that come out when Koby’s anxious, when he’s revealing more than he might normally.] I was learning to do that, to feel where people are. Maybe Mal could do something similar, but…it’s like that’s all been turned off, as soon as we came in here.
But not everything’s been changed. You can still do – other things, can’t you. [It’s a statement, not a question; if Alina is as lost as he is, and the night is getting colder, being able to generate light and heat could mean safety, comfort, survival. Koby’s gaze is intent, unflinching, even as he scrunches in on himself, even as he starts to shiver from how cold the night’s turning.] You don’t have to explain it, and I won’t ever mention it again, once we’re out of here. But if – something happens, something tries to attack, could you help defend us?