Date: 2024-01-25 07:41 am (UTC)
cryfrustration: (25)
"He wasn't an easy man to talk to if he didn't know you, didn't trust you," Vrenille acknowledges, "and he didn't trust easy."

He moves with K towards the little table, looking at the spot where Carver had sat, thinking of the soft brown of his eyes as they'd looked that day, the evolution from the expression that had been in them the first night they met when Carver had been ready to kill him on sight, thinking of the steps on the journey they'd made together and how much he values each one, hard as they'd sometimes been.

"Their world--his and Jesus' and Rosita's--it's a brutal place. And it hadn't been kind to him. He learned not to be kind back, not to share the kind parts of himself with anyone but his family. He was always looking for the angle, the trick--everyone's an enemy and the enemy's always trying to get you on the ground, and if you let them you deserve what happens to you, so you can't let your guard down, that's an awful sin, and you can't ever ever flinch."

It was something Vrenille had to learn to understand, this position from which Carver encountered the world. He had to find a way to meet him there, even when Carver didn't necessarily want him to do it.
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