He lets that empathy sit for a moment, lets himself feel it. He still misses V but Jesus was the only other person K knows who knew him, and they didn't talk much about him then, and still don't. Jesus likes to keep his grief private, likes to move on and not focus on it, and K understands.
But V was so effortlessly, completely, transparently friendly with him at a time when K was only just learning that was even possible; he was so immediately enraged and protective on his behalf at any slight. He was warm, and he was loyal, and his smile and his laugh were infectious and he was the type of person it was just easy to be around, and K misses him.
He glances over at Nibbles, the cat he inherited when V went home; he watches him for a time, listening to Vrenille, considering his question. Considers lying, now that it's a thing he can do; others might like it better if he did, but he rubs one thumb with the other and says, "Yes." It means so much that there's anyone at all, now, that wants him to feel happy, but sometimes he feels like that comes at the expense of the reality of the situation they're in.
Things don't necessarily have to be a certain way, but here, frequently they are.
"I don't regret helping him, because he did need someone to sign or he would have ended up in jail himself. But sometimes I really, really wish he would have spent that effort on someone else and left me there. I don't regret the extra time with Jesus, or getting to live here, but -" He looks around then at this apartment that is, by Los Angeles standards, unimaginably luxurious, that feels like he's not really supposed to be here.
"At least in Los Angeles, I knew what to expect and so did everyone else. When I knew I wasn't going to survive, I accepted it. It was peaceful at the end, and somehow in spite of everything, I knew I wasn't going to hurt anymore. It's hard not to want that."
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Date: 2023-04-07 06:47 pm (UTC)But V was so effortlessly, completely, transparently friendly with him at a time when K was only just learning that was even possible; he was so immediately enraged and protective on his behalf at any slight. He was warm, and he was loyal, and his smile and his laugh were infectious and he was the type of person it was just easy to be around, and K misses him.
He glances over at Nibbles, the cat he inherited when V went home; he watches him for a time, listening to Vrenille, considering his question. Considers lying, now that it's a thing he can do; others might like it better if he did, but he rubs one thumb with the other and says, "Yes." It means so much that there's anyone at all, now, that wants him to feel happy, but sometimes he feels like that comes at the expense of the reality of the situation they're in.
Things don't necessarily have to be a certain way, but here, frequently they are.
"I don't regret helping him, because he did need someone to sign or he would have ended up in jail himself. But sometimes I really, really wish he would have spent that effort on someone else and left me there. I don't regret the extra time with Jesus, or getting to live here, but -" He looks around then at this apartment that is, by Los Angeles standards, unimaginably luxurious, that feels like he's not really supposed to be here.
"At least in Los Angeles, I knew what to expect and so did everyone else. When I knew I wasn't going to survive, I accepted it. It was peaceful at the end, and somehow in spite of everything, I knew I wasn't going to hurt anymore. It's hard not to want that."