[To be honest, it's a question that Isaac has been expecting for awhile now, but he's still surprised that Peter has asked him. Peter is so laidback about everything- taking the claustrophobia, the nightmares, the violence in such an easy stride stride that Isaac sometimes forgets that he's never told him. Maybe Peter just felt like he didn't need to know. The lack of curiosity isn't so much a lack of caring as it seems to be done out of respect. If it comes up, if he wants to, Isaac will tell him. If it doesn't, he won't.
Still, he slowly closes the DS, shutting out the soft light that it had been emitting and sets it aside. The movement dislodges Peter's chin from his shoulder, and he doesn't quite go back so that Peter can press closely again. He bites at his lower lip for a moment, and he wants this to be flippant, he wants to give Peter his answer like it means nothing, but lying to Peter has always been hard. Peter told him about family- about his mother and Nicholae, about his cousin, and how much they mean to him. He doubts that Peter will really see his response as lighthearted, no matter how he phrases it.
He doesn't have to say it, but he will. He owes Peter that much, right? And he knows that Peter knows that there's something going on with him, he knows that Peter is painstakingly aware of ensuring that he's not in small rooms, that he never has to go down to the basement. It's going to come out sooner or later, and he'd rather it be at a moment like this, when he's rational and aware of what he's saying, than during some outburst of emotion.
Even so, the more he drags it out, the less likely it will be that Peter will buy that it's not a big deal. Isaac finally just shrugs, tilting his chin up and looking off toward the door- because he doesn't want to see Peter's reaction, but he doesn't want it to look like he's hiding from it either.]
My father.
[It's mentioned with a sigh, and Isaac is careful to keep the weight of it out of his voice. It's just as if it's some sort of casual conversation.]
We had what you might call a complicated relationship.
no subject
Still, he slowly closes the DS, shutting out the soft light that it had been emitting and sets it aside. The movement dislodges Peter's chin from his shoulder, and he doesn't quite go back so that Peter can press closely again. He bites at his lower lip for a moment, and he wants this to be flippant, he wants to give Peter his answer like it means nothing, but lying to Peter has always been hard. Peter told him about family- about his mother and Nicholae, about his cousin, and how much they mean to him. He doubts that Peter will really see his response as lighthearted, no matter how he phrases it.
He doesn't have to say it, but he will. He owes Peter that much, right? And he knows that Peter knows that there's something going on with him, he knows that Peter is painstakingly aware of ensuring that he's not in small rooms, that he never has to go down to the basement. It's going to come out sooner or later, and he'd rather it be at a moment like this, when he's rational and aware of what he's saying, than during some outburst of emotion.
Even so, the more he drags it out, the less likely it will be that Peter will buy that it's not a big deal. Isaac finally just shrugs, tilting his chin up and looking off toward the door- because he doesn't want to see Peter's reaction, but he doesn't want it to look like he's hiding from it either.]
My father.
[It's mentioned with a sigh, and Isaac is careful to keep the weight of it out of his voice. It's just as if it's some sort of casual conversation.]
We had what you might call a complicated relationship.