[ 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.
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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.