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[whatdidisay]

Vorpatril here. Leave me a message and I'll get back to you.

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[forwardmomentum]

I'm not moping. [ miles is being very defensive about it. so he's definitely moping. he finally sets his glass down and presses his face to his hand. ] I just found out, Ivan. What do you expect me to do, just shrug off the fact that someone I love is suddenly just...gone?

[ yes he sure did just use the l-word ]

[whatdidisay]

( he sure did, so ivan's just going to let his brows creep upwards as he takes a long, slow drink of his wine and lets miles deal with the implications of that all on his own. )

[forwardmomentum]

What? [ miles doesn't mean to snap back, but it comes out glum and irritable. ivan, can't you see his miserable here. don't give him the eyebrows. ] Do I need to repeat myself?

[whatdidisay]

You loved him?

( you only knew him for like, half a year, miles! and you had to know this was going to come to an end eventually. he is going to pour miles another glass, though.

just in case. )

[forwardmomentum]

[ come on, ivan, it's miles. he doesn't even need that long to topple clumsily into love. it's not like it took him long to know just what kind of person clark was.

he really is his father's son.

miles will take that extra glass, though, thank you, but he doesn't start on it right away. he wants to snap back with some witty and clever, perhaps bordering on catty, but he can't dredge up the right words. too slow. a little too depressed for that right now. miles just slumps lower in the chair, staring at his glass full of wine. he needs to drink more. a little faster. he takes a long, deep drink. ]

Yes. [ he mumbles the word into the glass and pauses to drink some more. didn't he come here to get drunk, not talk? he and ivan don't talk. not about feelings. and yet, here they are. ] He's not dead, Ivan. Just -- gone.

[whatdidisay]

Yeah.

( ivan says, although it's not an encouraging statement. but doesn't it amount to the same thing, in the end? at least here.

ivan wisely does not say that, for once. )

[forwardmomentum]

[ miles drains his second glass and sets it down. that's probably enough for now, but he's not in the mood for good sense. he stares at his hands, fidgeting, trying to will the misery away. dammit, booze, that's supposed to be your job. ]

He could come back.

[ he sounds a little like he's just trying to convince himself. actually, no, he sounds a lot like he's just trying to convince himself. ]