At some point in the silence after she speaks, Blue's eyes do lift to regard Di Feisheng with something like anticipation, waiting for judgment or at least comment, searching for a hint as to the content of his thoughts. When he does finally voice them, he graces her with such a trivial complaint that a smirk pulls unconsciously at her lips, a very mild humor that she hides behind a sip of her tea. Not relief quite yet, but a start; and her breath comes a fraction easier than it did a few moments ago.
The questions are expected, and true to his nature he jumps directly to the most strategic ones. The concern would be touching, if she thought it was meant that way, and meant for her. But she doubts it.
"Aren't we captured already?" What is this place but a prison? But she knows he doesn't mean that, and she doesn't want to waste his time (at this moment).
She all but shrugs her next words from her shoulders, less of a burden than the ones she offered before. "I'm not worried. There are those who would like to kill me if they found me here, but I'll deal with them if they come."
It isn't concern, but it isn't not concern. Certainly if she had confessed to a true fear of being hunted down in her new identity and strange land (hardly the prison she implied), he would be the first (and undoubtedly best, in his mind) to offer strategic insights. It isn't concern, because she has seemed unconcerned, and she knows her own business best, but there had been something in it anyway; the dawning light of more awful empathy, obscured by the brightness of curiosity. It would have been a very understandable reason for what she's apparently been doing all this time.
But beyond that, he can't say he understands, if that's what she's looking at him for. Why such a thing weighs on her, if she isn't too on edge about the potential of being captured. Why it's a secret that could threaten her life. He hasn't registered any strain to her breathing, but the sense of being lightened he can read just fine, and that's good, though his noting of it isn't at the forefront.
She doesn't want to waste her time or his, but she's still digging at the hidden parts of something like a stone in wet sand, and whether despite his nature or due to it he is drawn back into the 'story,' tea cooling and forgotten.
"I'm sure you will." He won't even gloat for having been right to suspect her of not being what she claims, instead tipping his head like he's conceding a match rather than taking one. The graciousness isn't even performative. "But then, why? Or am I here to ask how?"
His graciousness is noted, folded between her own records like a flower pressed between pages. Equally comforting is the seriousness with which he takes her. Yes, he could have gloated, and anyone else might have and been right to do so. But not him. Not for the first time, she appreciates the breadth of space that he gives her to exist in without threat or challenge.
So when he voices his own uncertainty about what role she expects him to play, she can't help but offer him the same.
"You're here to ask what you like. I have some expectations, but you've defied those before. It is one of the qualities I like about you." For better or for worse, though her presence here at this table implies it's been mostly for the better.
"I will admit that Why is the easier question to answer, though. Simple as it may be: This was the face I arrived with. If I were to remove it... Somehow I doubt I need to explain that discrepancy invites further scrutiny, or that scrutiny can be unwelcome when one is accustomed to blending in."
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The questions are expected, and true to his nature he jumps directly to the most strategic ones. The concern would be touching, if she thought it was meant that way, and meant for her. But she doubts it.
"Aren't we captured already?" What is this place but a prison? But she knows he doesn't mean that, and she doesn't want to waste his time (at this moment).
She all but shrugs her next words from her shoulders, less of a burden than the ones she offered before. "I'm not worried. There are those who would like to kill me if they found me here, but I'll deal with them if they come."
no subject
But beyond that, he can't say he understands, if that's what she's looking at him for. Why such a thing weighs on her, if she isn't too on edge about the potential of being captured. Why it's a secret that could threaten her life. He hasn't registered any strain to her breathing, but the sense of being lightened he can read just fine, and that's good, though his noting of it isn't at the forefront.
She doesn't want to waste her time or his, but she's still digging at the hidden parts of something like a stone in wet sand, and whether despite his nature or due to it he is drawn back into the 'story,' tea cooling and forgotten.
"I'm sure you will." He won't even gloat for having been right to suspect her of not being what she claims, instead tipping his head like he's conceding a match rather than taking one. The graciousness isn't even performative. "But then, why? Or am I here to ask how?"
no subject
So when he voices his own uncertainty about what role she expects him to play, she can't help but offer him the same.
"You're here to ask what you like. I have some expectations, but you've defied those before. It is one of the qualities I like about you." For better or for worse, though her presence here at this table implies it's been mostly for the better.
"I will admit that Why is the easier question to answer, though. Simple as it may be: This was the face I arrived with. If I were to remove it... Somehow I doubt I need to explain that discrepancy invites further scrutiny, or that scrutiny can be unwelcome when one is accustomed to blending in."