( That fondness does something to him, his miserable expression twisting up into one that matches the tone in Ratio's voice. He lived, didn't he? He lived and had made his luck clear, and what he was willing to risk for the sake of a win. It was vital to their partnership, and not once has Aventurine regretted it. )
But you can't argue that it didn't make an impression.
( Sometimes Aventurine wishes Ratio wasn't so smart, so perceptive, as he is. An empty wish, because he wouldn't be so endeared to the other man if he wasn't. Doctor Veritas Ratio is a genius, even without being acknowledged by Nous, and he's capable of going toe to toe with Aventurine in whatever scheme or rhetoric he wants to throw at the other man. But it does mean that sometimes he feels as if he's an open book for him.
Aventurine's silence is enough of a confirmation than anything he could say. He doesn't want Ratio's pity, and he doesn't want Ratio's hate. He wants--
no subject
But you can't argue that it didn't make an impression.
( Sometimes Aventurine wishes Ratio wasn't so smart, so perceptive, as he is. An empty wish, because he wouldn't be so endeared to the other man if he wasn't. Doctor Veritas Ratio is a genius, even without being acknowledged by Nous, and he's capable of going toe to toe with Aventurine in whatever scheme or rhetoric he wants to throw at the other man. But it does mean that sometimes he feels as if he's an open book for him.
Aventurine's silence is enough of a confirmation than anything he could say. He doesn't want Ratio's pity, and he doesn't want Ratio's hate. He wants--
He wants Ratio's acceptance and love.
Oh fuck. )