[ Briefly, they consider continuing to walk away.... or run away. They've no doubt they can outrun him, and maybe they could just avoid him forever. Such is the way of gem thinking: if you keep putting a problem off, you'll never really have to deal with it.
But, perhaps mercifully, not even having the choice to run away from things they didn't want to deal with for most of their life keeps them frozen in indecision for a little, their step awkwardly stalling when they look over at Lupin approaching. There's a few things they can tell just from those words alone; he must have been keeping at least some sort of close tabs on them over their hibernation. The same unnamable discomfort they've had around him for some time now stirs, even in the density of their crystalline body. Like ice melting.
He.... cared, right? Did he miss them? They're used to waking up from hibernation to not much more than a casual oh, and they couldn't blame the other gems for not waiting on baited breath for them to rejoin their band. They only ever saw each other for a season at a time: Fall and spring, with the bitter winters spent alone and their summers in slumber. Quietly, they can admit to themself that the weight of his apparent... relief? Excitement? Feels different from all the hundreds of offhand greetings previous. Like maybe their absence was more than just an inconvenience or a fact of life. Like he's been waiting for them, if they can delude themself into believing it.
Over their life, though, they've learned it's best not to hope or long for anything too much, whether that's ambition, companionship, or just attention. To Cairngorm, such things were always out of reach, even if they were right in front of them. Sometimes, it feels like Lupin's no different than that. Whether than chasing that small spark of hope, they should be grateful and satisfied he even noticed their absence to this extent at all. The reminder keeps their expression flat and neutral, chasing away the strange urge to meet his relief with their own.
They sigh audibly through their nose as he comes over, but they relent, no longer trying to get away. This is fine. They're still pretty tired, and running away would be a lot of physical effort, because they're certain Lupin would give chase. That's what this is: convenience. Truth be told, while the feelings are still fresh and abstract in their mind from everything leading up to their slumber, they can't remember every word spoken between them prior. They remember feeling nervous. They remember feeling worried. Over what Lupin had said, exactly, eludes them. ]
Were you watching my house all this time? It's barely been minutes.
[ Since they awoke, they mean. They complain, dryly, raising a gloved hand to rub at their eye, long eyelashes glittering while they try to blink themself awake. On the one hand, they want to jab at him for being so nosy that he found out immediately... but on the other, maybe telling him that they really haven't been conscious for long will make him feel lenient on the fact that they literally just tried to walk away. If they're lucky, maybe he'll just think they didn't see him... ]
REAL
But, perhaps mercifully, not even having the choice to run away from things they didn't want to deal with for most of their life keeps them frozen in indecision for a little, their step awkwardly stalling when they look over at Lupin approaching. There's a few things they can tell just from those words alone; he must have been keeping at least some sort of close tabs on them over their hibernation. The same unnamable discomfort they've had around him for some time now stirs, even in the density of their crystalline body. Like ice melting.
He.... cared, right? Did he miss them? They're used to waking up from hibernation to not much more than a casual oh, and they couldn't blame the other gems for not waiting on baited breath for them to rejoin their band. They only ever saw each other for a season at a time: Fall and spring, with the bitter winters spent alone and their summers in slumber. Quietly, they can admit to themself that the weight of his apparent... relief? Excitement? Feels different from all the hundreds of offhand greetings previous. Like maybe their absence was more than just an inconvenience or a fact of life. Like he's been waiting for them, if they can delude themself into believing it.
Over their life, though, they've learned it's best not to hope or long for anything too much, whether that's ambition, companionship, or just attention. To Cairngorm, such things were always out of reach, even if they were right in front of them. Sometimes, it feels like Lupin's no different than that. Whether than chasing that small spark of hope, they should be grateful and satisfied he even noticed their absence to this extent at all. The reminder keeps their expression flat and neutral, chasing away the strange urge to meet his relief with their own.
They sigh audibly through their nose as he comes over, but they relent, no longer trying to get away. This is fine. They're still pretty tired, and running away would be a lot of physical effort, because they're certain Lupin would give chase. That's what this is: convenience. Truth be told, while the feelings are still fresh and abstract in their mind from everything leading up to their slumber, they can't remember every word spoken between them prior. They remember feeling nervous. They remember feeling worried. Over what Lupin had said, exactly, eludes them. ]
Were you watching my house all this time? It's barely been minutes.
[ Since they awoke, they mean. They complain, dryly, raising a gloved hand to rub at their eye, long eyelashes glittering while they try to blink themself awake. On the one hand, they want to jab at him for being so nosy that he found out immediately... but on the other, maybe telling him that they really haven't been conscious for long will make him feel lenient on the fact that they literally just tried to walk away. If they're lucky, maybe he'll just think they didn't see him... ]