[ Giving gifts isn't something he's been able to do before. Talking to Julie had made him slightly more confident in his ability to pick something, but he'd still been irrationally concerned about either getting the wrong thing, or - maybe, this - Jack feeling obligated to get him something in return.
They nearly collide as Jack tries and fails to make a hasty escape, and Kahlil can only stand there while he gives his stream-of-conscious explanation for the package on the bed. It leaves Kahlil face flushed by the end. ]
I'm glad you liked it. [ Love it. He feels a warmth in his chest, but he quickly shakes his head. ] I should've asked how you felt about holidays first. Sorry.
[ That he might not have good associations with them. He looks over Jack's shoulder at the package, frowning slightly. ] I'm sure whatever you picked out is great - you didn't have to get me anything at all, you know...
[ He glances at Jack again with an inscrutable look, his face still warm, and walks toward the bed to touch the wrapped object. ]
No, I know! I mean- I didn't- know know, but I- I wanted to.
( It's a swift but earnest correction, given while he scratches at the back of his neck in that classic move of bashful awkwardness. It's some real Michael Cera energy, but it's kind of like a train wreck in slow motion. He can't stop himself. )
I don't mind them, I just... forget about them, ever since-
( Ever since Sabine stopped being around to remind him. )
...a while ago.
( A lame finisher. )
I'll just...
( He glances back to his bed. Shuffles a few steps away to pick up his latest book, so he can pretend to read it. Or... not pretend to read it. Is he supposed to like.... watch Kyle open everything? Or would that be too much scrutiny? Would it be rude to feign disinterest?
Like the true social genius he is, he winds up in some weird middle ground, settled on his mattress with his book open in his hands, oh-so-subtly glancing at Kyle over the top of the page. Hello fellow humans. God, he hates himself sometimes. )
[ He doesn't respond, mostly to allow Jack's word-vomit to run its course with some sort of dignity - though he's surprised when he sticks around after. Is it strange to be sort-of-not-quite-watched? He doesn't know, but as he unwraps the paper around the gift his brow creases slightly.
His memories might not be 100%, but he's pretty certain that Jack bought him more gifts in one sitting than he's received in his entire thirty-something years. It's much too much, has him feeling touched and slightly guilty. All he'd bought Jack was a journal. A nicely made one, but still. This is...
He sifts through the items one at a time, making a place for each of them around him on the bed and setting them down gently, like a dragon sitting in the middle of his hoard. He turns the bone in his hand, brings the candle to his nose, runs his hand over the soft fabric of the scarf and socks, and smiles at the card.
Finally the container of strawberries sits in his lap, and he remembers aloud - ]
( Stupidly, Jack's first instinct when Kyle starts speaking is to raise the book up an inch — like that'll somehow make it more convincing that he's not paying attention. It dips back down again before the sentence finishes. )
Yeah, it... seemed like you liked them. So. I figured...
( It was a safe bet. )
But then I thought, that's not really a gift, it's more like a snack? So I kept looking, and I saw the scarf, and it's kind of cold and you deliver a lot, but then I was like... well I've never actually seen you wear a scarf, but everybody wears socks. But socks are kind of lame, like- a grandma gift, and... one thing lead to another and I think maybe I got a little carried away.
[ He watches Jack for a moment, shaking his head again. ]
They are a gift. In my world, they don't exist. [ Anymore, of if they ever did at all. ] Here, they are precious too.
[ Not just because they blights have ruined the crops, made things more scarce.
Any one of these might've made a wonderful gift on their own. Jack thinks too much. Sometimes it's funny and endearing, sometimes he wonders how Jack doesn't have a head full of gray hair from it.
After a second he aside the socks and scarf so that he can slip off his bed, container in one hand as he settles down on Jack's bed, placing it between them. ]
And we can share them. [ His taste buds aren't as sensitive as they were when he first arrived, he can probably eat more than one without getting overwhelmed. But that seems greedy. ]
( He doesn't know about precious, but they were definitely a little overpriced, considering what he's used to paying for strawberries. It's okay, though — what matters is that Kyle seems to like his present, and that's really the whole point. He's not one to argue semantics.
He blinks as Kyle stands, blinks again as he settles onto Jack's bed beside him. )
I feel like we have a fundamentally different understanding of what gifts are supposed to be, but... thank you.
( He takes a strawberry. It might not exactly be what he expected, but still - the act of sharing seems like a Thing now. Specifically, the kind of Thing you don't turn down.
He doesn't actually eat it yet, just holds it thoughtfully in one hand while the other folds a dog-eared crease onto one page of his book. )
I really do like the journal. Just... for the record. It's great. I think I've needed one for a while now without actually realizing it.
[ He shrugs at fundamentally different understanding, and then gives a toothy grin when Jack admits again that he liked his gift, his sheepishness giving way to pride and confidence he didn't have when he first left the package.
Kahlil continues to settle on the bed, shifting so he's cross-legged before taking one of the strawberries for himself. ]
( He muses, glancing down at the journal contemplatively. Decides to bring the strawberry to his lips finally while he considers it, a sort of subconscious procrastination method to buy himself a little time.
A moment later he chews, swallows, and makes up his mind. )
Back home, I used them to help me keep my memories straight. To try and track my reality, basically. Whatever I go with, it'll be something like that, probably.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
They nearly collide as Jack tries and fails to make a hasty escape, and Kahlil can only stand there while he gives his stream-of-conscious explanation for the package on the bed. It leaves Kahlil face flushed by the end. ]
I'm glad you liked it. [ Love it. He feels a warmth in his chest, but he quickly shakes his head. ] I should've asked how you felt about holidays first. Sorry.
[ That he might not have good associations with them. He looks over Jack's shoulder at the package, frowning slightly. ] I'm sure whatever you picked out is great - you didn't have to get me anything at all, you know...
[ He glances at Jack again with an inscrutable look, his face still warm, and walks toward the bed to touch the wrapped object. ]
no subject
( It's a swift but earnest correction, given while he scratches at the back of his neck in that classic move of bashful awkwardness. It's some real Michael Cera energy, but it's kind of like a train wreck in slow motion. He can't stop himself. )
I don't mind them, I just... forget about them, ever since-
( Ever since Sabine stopped being around to remind him. )
...a while ago.
( A lame finisher. )
I'll just...
( He glances back to his bed. Shuffles a few steps away to pick up his latest book, so he can pretend to read it. Or... not pretend to read it. Is he supposed to like.... watch Kyle open everything? Or would that be too much scrutiny? Would it be rude to feign disinterest?
Like the true social genius he is, he winds up in some weird middle ground, settled on his mattress with his book open in his hands, oh-so-subtly glancing at Kyle over the top of the page. Hello fellow humans. God, he hates himself sometimes. )
no subject
His memories might not be 100%, but he's pretty certain that Jack bought him more gifts in one sitting than he's received in his entire thirty-something years. It's much too much, has him feeling touched and slightly guilty. All he'd bought Jack was a journal. A nicely made one, but still. This is...
He sifts through the items one at a time, making a place for each of them around him on the bed and setting them down gently, like a dragon sitting in the middle of his hoard. He turns the bone in his hand, brings the candle to his nose, runs his hand over the soft fabric of the scarf and socks, and smiles at the card.
Finally the container of strawberries sits in his lap, and he remembers aloud - ]
I was eating these when we met.
no subject
Yeah, it... seemed like you liked them. So. I figured...
( It was a safe bet. )
But then I thought, that's not really a gift, it's more like a snack? So I kept looking, and I saw the scarf, and it's kind of cold and you deliver a lot, but then I was like... well I've never actually seen you wear a scarf, but everybody wears socks. But socks are kind of lame, like- a grandma gift, and... one thing lead to another and I think maybe I got a little carried away.
no subject
They are a gift. In my world, they don't exist. [ Anymore, of if they ever did at all. ] Here, they are precious too.
[ Not just because they blights have ruined the crops, made things more scarce.
Any one of these might've made a wonderful gift on their own. Jack thinks too much. Sometimes it's funny and endearing, sometimes he wonders how Jack doesn't have a head full of gray hair from it.
After a second he aside the socks and scarf so that he can slip off his bed, container in one hand as he settles down on Jack's bed, placing it between them. ]
And we can share them. [ His taste buds aren't as sensitive as they were when he first arrived, he can probably eat more than one without getting overwhelmed. But that seems greedy. ]
no subject
He blinks as Kyle stands, blinks again as he settles onto Jack's bed beside him. )
I feel like we have a fundamentally different understanding of what gifts are supposed to be, but... thank you.
( He takes a strawberry. It might not exactly be what he expected, but still - the act of sharing seems like a Thing now. Specifically, the kind of Thing you don't turn down.
He doesn't actually eat it yet, just holds it thoughtfully in one hand while the other folds a dog-eared crease onto one page of his book. )
I really do like the journal. Just... for the record. It's great. I think I've needed one for a while now without actually realizing it.
no subject
Kahlil continues to settle on the bed, shifting so he's cross-legged before taking one of the strawberries for himself. ]
What do you think you'll start with?
[ If he's allowed to ask. ]
no subject
( He muses, glancing down at the journal contemplatively. Decides to bring the strawberry to his lips finally while he considers it, a sort of subconscious procrastination method to buy himself a little time.
A moment later he chews, swallows, and makes up his mind. )
Back home, I used them to help me keep my memories straight. To try and track my reality, basically. Whatever I go with, it'll be something like that, probably.