[Surprised to be asked whether or not Nanako can sit with them, Chatterclock glances at Yu, then nods slightly. Being treated like this continues to baffle him. It's not his bed, it's not his house, none of this is his call to make, and still Yu asks permission.
...But then, maybe he can understand it, or at least the impulse behind it. Sorry for intruding. It clicks, suddenly, when Nanako calls Yu's uncle "Dad" that Yu entered this family later. That he came in from somewhere else.
These distinctions mean a lot to Chatterclock. Dad. Cousin.Big bro. They land heavier in his consciousness than other words, like weights holding the rest of his understanding of this world together. Signposts all the more visible for his lack of experience with them.
His hands loosen, release the hem of his pants.]
Okay.
[Nanako's smile, curiosity, and willingness to talk have eased the taut anxiety from Chatterclock's chest, leaving mostly the wrong-footed awkwardness of any guest and a stirring of answering curiosity. He rests his hands in his lap, one cupped in the other, pressing his thumb into his palm to keep himself from fidgeting. Meets her eyes properly, even though his ears are heating up under the overt attention.]
If that's okay with you. Like. It's your house.
[After a moment, just a tiny bit emboldened by the lack of instant rejection, he tilts his head.]
Someone ought to help you look after this guy, right?
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...But then, maybe he can understand it, or at least the impulse behind it. Sorry for intruding. It clicks, suddenly, when Nanako calls Yu's uncle "Dad" that Yu entered this family later. That he came in from somewhere else.
These distinctions mean a lot to Chatterclock. Dad. Cousin. Big bro. They land heavier in his consciousness than other words, like weights holding the rest of his understanding of this world together. Signposts all the more visible for his lack of experience with them.
His hands loosen, release the hem of his pants.]
Okay.
[Nanako's smile, curiosity, and willingness to talk have eased the taut anxiety from Chatterclock's chest, leaving mostly the wrong-footed awkwardness of any guest and a stirring of answering curiosity. He rests his hands in his lap, one cupped in the other, pressing his thumb into his palm to keep himself from fidgeting. Meets her eyes properly, even though his ears are heating up under the overt attention.]
If that's okay with you. Like. It's your house.
[After a moment, just a tiny bit emboldened by the lack of instant rejection, he tilts his head.]
Someone ought to help you look after this guy, right?