You? Train me? [It gets a watery sort of laugh, and Koby rubbing at his eyes with the heel of one hand again. But at least it's a laugh, right?] Are you -- looking to punish yourself somehow?
You aren't that old. [Almost like Koby's reminding himself of that fact, even as he braces himself to be set down on the couch. But then -- Mihawk doesn't let go. Just sits there, Koby in his arms. It feels...well, it feels like a lot of things. Strange, a relief, a comfort. All of that.
If he wanted to, Koby knows he could move away, could turn to wiggle out of Mihawk's arms and onto the couch, without any resistance. For all that he could, there hasn't been a single instance of Mihawk forcing Koby to do anything. Maybe it's because he doesn't feel the need to? Or maybe he senses, on some level, how much has already been decided for Koby, how important the freedom is. Regardless, Koby knows implicitly that he could carefully move away from Mihawk, and there'd be no attempts to hold onto him.
But he doesn't move.
He keeps looking upwards, watches the shift of Mihawk's face, the subtle movement of his jaw, his eyebrows, the way his mouth forms each word. Koby watches like he's transfixed, thinks wildly, absurdly, of reaching out and touching Mihawk's mouth. Just once. He doesn't, of course, just swallows hard and finally lets the words register.] You pay attention to that sort of thing? My -- footsteps? The way I sound? Do you do that for everyone?
[The smirk and the comment get a dramatic eyeroll, and Koby elbowing at Mihawk's chest, completely ineffectively.] I've had enough of being a pet, thanks. [Mission accomplished?]
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You aren't that old. [Almost like Koby's reminding himself of that fact, even as he braces himself to be set down on the couch. But then -- Mihawk doesn't let go. Just sits there, Koby in his arms. It feels...well, it feels like a lot of things. Strange, a relief, a comfort. All of that.
If he wanted to, Koby knows he could move away, could turn to wiggle out of Mihawk's arms and onto the couch, without any resistance. For all that he could, there hasn't been a single instance of Mihawk forcing Koby to do anything. Maybe it's because he doesn't feel the need to? Or maybe he senses, on some level, how much has already been decided for Koby, how important the freedom is. Regardless, Koby knows implicitly that he could carefully move away from Mihawk, and there'd be no attempts to hold onto him.
But he doesn't move.
He keeps looking upwards, watches the shift of Mihawk's face, the subtle movement of his jaw, his eyebrows, the way his mouth forms each word. Koby watches like he's transfixed, thinks wildly, absurdly, of reaching out and touching Mihawk's mouth. Just once. He doesn't, of course, just swallows hard and finally lets the words register.] You pay attention to that sort of thing? My -- footsteps? The way I sound? Do you do that for everyone?
[The smirk and the comment get a dramatic eyeroll, and Koby elbowing at Mihawk's chest, completely ineffectively.] I've had enough of being a pet, thanks. [Mission accomplished?]