Sometimes he drifts back into the curt monosyllabic sentences heโd used for most of their first year together, only communicating the bare minimum — his handlers hadnโt built him to be a talker — but itโs never meant to be rude.
(Some details, though, make the picture of him strange, the puzzle pieces not quite fitting. Where sheโs had to work on her accent with careful training over the years, smoothing out the Russian syllables, the American accentโs always come easily to her husband. In its place is a lingering awkwardness in even his textbook-perfect Russian, the consonants ever so slightly off.)
He scoots a little forward, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the coffee table. Rolls his shoulder, testing the range of motion. One of his arms is fake, a skin-coloured prosthetic to blend in and hopefully not stand out around the neighbourhood with it; but on the flesh-and-blood side, the shirt over his shoulder is damp with blood. โI canโt tell,โ Jon admits about the stitches, and thereโs the faintest flicker in his expression which— might be sheepishness?
no subject
Sometimes he drifts back into the curt monosyllabic sentences heโd used for most of their first year together, only communicating the bare minimum — his handlers hadnโt built him to be a talker — but itโs never meant to be rude.
(Some details, though, make the picture of him strange, the puzzle pieces not quite fitting. Where sheโs had to work on her accent with careful training over the years, smoothing out the Russian syllables, the American accentโs always come easily to her husband. In its place is a lingering awkwardness in even his textbook-perfect Russian, the consonants ever so slightly off.)
He scoots a little forward, shrugging out of his jacket and tossing it onto the coffee table. Rolls his shoulder, testing the range of motion. One of his arms is fake, a skin-coloured prosthetic to blend in and hopefully not stand out around the neighbourhood with it; but on the flesh-and-blood side, the shirt over his shoulder is damp with blood. โI canโt tell,โ Jon admits about the stitches, and thereโs the faintest flicker in his expression which— might be sheepishness?