[ He's made a mistake. He knows he's made a mistake, as close as he is to her, as aware of physicality and the emotion of that link.
She's not a Titan. It's not even that he hasn't gotten it through his thick skull, it's that it's been so long since he interacted with someone who didn't have the fundamental understanding of what he is, and he doesn't know how to do it. She's not a mortal human, and she's not a Guardian, and it's confusing. Ultimately, it reflects ill on him, because she deserves more respect in answer to the vulnerability she has shown.
He holds himself carefully still even after she has relaxed and keeps his gaze fixed on the fire. He doesn't shut off the link that is the synchrony, but he pulls mentally back from it, as pleasurable as it is, and tries to hold it at the same distance he would for any student.
It would be easier to pretend that nothing had happened at all, but that would be the coward's way out. He's never been a coward, even if that means he's often a fool. ]
I'm sorry. You're not a Titan, and you deserve better than for me to have forgotten that.
[ He uncurls his fingers, holding his hand flat under hers. She hasn't done anything so dramatic as retract her permission, and he's not going to embarass them both by fleeing into the snow like a spurned boy. He's still glad for the contact between the two of them, happy to be a wall for her to lean on, honored by what she's shared even if he's reacted unsuitably. But the offer is there, silent: If she'd rather he left, it's an order he'll take without question. ]
no subject
She's not a Titan. It's not even that he hasn't gotten it through his thick skull, it's that it's been so long since he interacted with someone who didn't have the fundamental understanding of what he is, and he doesn't know how to do it. She's not a mortal human, and she's not a Guardian, and it's confusing. Ultimately, it reflects ill on him, because she deserves more respect in answer to the vulnerability she has shown.
He holds himself carefully still even after she has relaxed and keeps his gaze fixed on the fire. He doesn't shut off the link that is the synchrony, but he pulls mentally back from it, as pleasurable as it is, and tries to hold it at the same distance he would for any student.
It would be easier to pretend that nothing had happened at all, but that would be the coward's way out. He's never been a coward, even if that means he's often a fool. ]
I'm sorry. You're not a Titan, and you deserve better than for me to have forgotten that.
[ He uncurls his fingers, holding his hand flat under hers. She hasn't done anything so dramatic as retract her permission, and he's not going to embarass them both by fleeing into the snow like a spurned boy. He's still glad for the contact between the two of them, happy to be a wall for her to lean on, honored by what she's shared even if he's reacted unsuitably. But the offer is there, silent: If she'd rather he left, it's an order he'll take without question. ]