Broken Boulder spin for you like your favorite records used to

he half expects alarian to clam up. his friend has always struck him a the reticent one between the two of them -- at least when it comes to his own feelings about things. delight doesn't mind, and he wouldn't mind now if alarian didn't want to tell him what's --

oh. oh. is that a bad thing? he wracks his brain, trying to recall if alarian'd mentioned anything about a brother, what sort of relationship they might have. he doesn't need to: his friend is explaining for him. quietly he listens, intensity returned to moon-sharp eyes. (for too long now he's lacked that sharp intent in observation -- under more auspicious circumstances, recognizing it's return would be joyful to him). 

when alarian finishes, delight makes a soft noise, agreeing mildly, "i did ask." he falls quiet for a moment, trying to figure out something to say that isn't -- reductive or an empty nicety. for someone who relies so much on others to bolster his fragile ego, he himself struggles at... comfort. but alarian deserves someone who can comfort him. "i don't know what i'd do if someone from -- my former life showed up again," he says, finally, "least of all because i think they're all dead. but -- what i mean is, it makes sense that it's weird. and it sounds like you've been through a lot together, so." awkwardly he lifts one shoulder in a half shrug, letting it fall. "maybe just give it time?"