( Now that they've both had time to recover from that sudden entrance, the corners of Asra's lips quirk up into a little smile. He gestures for Julian to follow as he heads up to where the brewing pot of coffee — it does smell nice, even to a person who generally prefers the lighter scent of tea, and by the time they reach the cosy nook of his kitchen he's fairly certain it's ready to pour. )
You don't need to thank me, Ilya. Hopefully this will help you feel a little better.
( He fills two cups, then sets them down on the well-worn table before gesturing for his guest to take a seat. Violet eyes soften as his gaze settles on Julian: )
You really don't have to... ah, I appreciate it, though. Not... to seem ungrateful. I—
( relax. yeah, that's the advice he needs right now. he has the body language and the chill, casual smile of someone who's as cool as a cucumber, but the way he trips over his words is only the first sign that he's anything but. the other is all that nervous energy roiling off him like a furnace that deals in anxiousness rather than heat.
well, and heat too. he runs hot, and he's running extra hot now. he takes the cup and nurses it in both gloved hands as he sits, looks up with a little bit of a start, and then... visibly releases the tension from his body. or tries to. )
Sorry. You're right. I did warn you I was wound up. You have a way of doing that to me, you know. ( one careful sip, minding the temperature. ) You have a way of calming me down again, too, though.
( Asra just raises an eyebrow as he curls his palms around his cup. He wishes Faust were snuggled somewhere beneath his clothing to keep his thoughts level and his heart rate down, but for all he's fond of Julian, she's sensibly curled herself up out of potential firework range. )
I thought you were wound up in the first place.
( Said with a slightly querying tone, if only because he'd been under the impression that Julian was already in one of his wobbly moods. That he exacerbated it somewhat ...
Well, yes. Not his first mistake of the day. )
But I'm glad to be able to help.
( His smile warms as a good deal of tension appears to slip from Julian's shoulders. Asra watches him a moment longer before taking an indulgent sip from own cup — and is momentarily reminded that in his opinion? Coffee always smells a lot better than it tastes. Ah, well. )
... Would you like to talk about the six-out-of-ten?
( shaking his head with theatrical resign, julian's next sip of coffee could pass for stage-acted, consoling his woeful sorrows in drink. in reality, that's just. him. how he is. even with coffee. when he glances up to see the look on asra's face, though, the tension in his expression leaves to join what vacated his body.
god, how can he be upset with asra for anything, ever? look at him, bless his tender magicky soul, braving coffee he hardly likes just to comfort him, the most miserable wretch in the cosmos. )
We don't have to. It was stupid, really. Er—well, no, I suppose it... I've done worse. Uh, literally. But telling you about it was probably wholly unnecessary.
( ...glancing away. he's holding something back there. )
( Asra just raises an eyebrow as Julian trips over himself for a few moments, before eventually deciding on keeping whatever it is that's bothering him tucked in close to his chest. He sighs gently, then sets his own cup of coffee to the side, before reaching over to slip his hand over Julian's and offer a little squeeze. )
Come on, Ilya. Perhaps getting it off your chest will help?
( He isn't going to force him, but Asra cares deeply about the man sitting opposite him. Sometimes he can't help but wonder how things might be if they were both ... better, somehow, at being in relationships, and whether they could really be happy if they tried to make something work. Such thoughts never fail to stir up butterflies in his stomach, but ...
But here they are. )
I know I can be blunt, but I don't mind hearing about what's troubling you.
( asra touches julian's hand and right on cue, his cheeks heat. it the almost casual combination of everything he gets at once that really does it, though: the touch, the offer to listen, the invitation to vent, and the way asra looks at him when he says it. his eye settles on their hands for a long moment, and rather than set his coffee down in turn, he uses it as a veil to hide the way his smile grows crookedly from one side of his face to the other while he sips. )
You're too good to me. How did I get so lucky...?
( oh no, don't get mushy now. as if he can help it. clearing his throat, he drops the gushing before he can go any further with it, but there isn't much he can do about the adoring look on his face when he finally glances up. that's just his face. one eye or two, it looks the same. )
Alright, Asra, I'll talk. If you want to know the truth, I— that person, they were... fine. Just fine. No offense to them, but I've had better. I just played it up because I, uh, that it'd... make for a better story.
( there's a certain sort of way julian leans back in his seat, not quite drawing his hand away but seemingly preparing for asra to, instead. as if he expects he's going to want to. )
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
( Now that they've both had time to recover from that sudden entrance, the corners of Asra's lips quirk up into a little smile. He gestures for Julian to follow as he heads up to where the brewing pot of coffee — it does smell nice, even to a person who generally prefers the lighter scent of tea, and by the time they reach the cosy nook of his kitchen he's fairly certain it's ready to pour. )
You don't need to thank me, Ilya. Hopefully this will help you feel a little better.
( He fills two cups, then sets them down on the well-worn table before gesturing for his guest to take a seat. Violet eyes soften as his gaze settles on Julian: )
All I need from you is for you to try and relax.
no subject
( relax. yeah, that's the advice he needs right now. he has the body language and the chill, casual smile of someone who's as cool as a cucumber, but the way he trips over his words is only the first sign that he's anything but. the other is all that nervous energy roiling off him like a furnace that deals in anxiousness rather than heat.
well, and heat too. he runs hot, and he's running extra hot now. he takes the cup and nurses it in both gloved hands as he sits, looks up with a little bit of a start, and then... visibly releases the tension from his body. or tries to. )
Sorry. You're right. I did warn you I was wound up. You have a way of doing that to me, you know. ( one careful sip, minding the temperature. ) You have a way of calming me down again, too, though.
no subject
( Asra just raises an eyebrow as he curls his palms around his cup. He wishes Faust were snuggled somewhere beneath his clothing to keep his thoughts level and his heart rate down, but for all he's fond of Julian, she's sensibly curled herself up out of potential firework range. )
I thought you were wound up in the first place.
( Said with a slightly querying tone, if only because he'd been under the impression that Julian was already in one of his wobbly moods. That he exacerbated it somewhat ...
Well, yes. Not his first mistake of the day. )
But I'm glad to be able to help.
( His smile warms as a good deal of tension appears to slip from Julian's shoulders. Asra watches him a moment longer before taking an indulgent sip from own cup — and is momentarily reminded that in his opinion? Coffee always smells a lot better than it tastes. Ah, well. )
... Would you like to talk about the six-out-of-ten?
no subject
( shaking his head with theatrical resign, julian's next sip of coffee could pass for stage-acted, consoling his woeful sorrows in drink. in reality, that's just. him. how he is. even with coffee. when he glances up to see the look on asra's face, though, the tension in his expression leaves to join what vacated his body.
god, how can he be upset with asra for anything, ever? look at him, bless his tender magicky soul, braving coffee he hardly likes just to comfort him, the most miserable wretch in the cosmos. )
We don't have to. It was stupid, really. Er—well, no, I suppose it... I've done worse. Uh, literally. But telling you about it was probably wholly unnecessary.
( ...glancing away. he's holding something back there. )
Definitely unnecessary.
no subject
( Asra just raises an eyebrow as Julian trips over himself for a few moments, before eventually deciding on keeping whatever it is that's bothering him tucked in close to his chest. He sighs gently, then sets his own cup of coffee to the side, before reaching over to slip his hand over Julian's and offer a little squeeze. )
Come on, Ilya. Perhaps getting it off your chest will help?
( He isn't going to force him, but Asra cares deeply about the man sitting opposite him. Sometimes he can't help but wonder how things might be if they were both ... better, somehow, at being in relationships, and whether they could really be happy if they tried to make something work. Such thoughts never fail to stir up butterflies in his stomach, but ...
But here they are. )
I know I can be blunt, but I don't mind hearing about what's troubling you.
( A beat. )
Talk to me.
no subject
You're too good to me. How did I get so lucky...?
( oh no, don't get mushy now. as if he can help it. clearing his throat, he drops the gushing before he can go any further with it, but there isn't much he can do about the adoring look on his face when he finally glances up. that's just his face. one eye or two, it looks the same. )
Alright, Asra, I'll talk. If you want to know the truth, I— that person, they were... fine. Just fine. No offense to them, but I've had better. I just played it up because I, uh, that it'd... make for a better story.
( there's a certain sort of way julian leans back in his seat, not quite drawing his hand away but seemingly preparing for asra to, instead. as if he expects he's going to want to. )
A better story to tell you, specifically.