In the memories that he had of Elena, he'd never actually approached her. They'd existed in the same universe, this strange situation that his more cognizant memories could hardly parse, but she was a distant star to his own little patch of earth. Occasionally, her light had fallen on him or their two ships had passed in the night, but there'd never been any meaningful conversation because Randel was an idiot but not that much of an idiot.
Which was not to ever say that Katherine was some sort of substitute or in any way someone he didn't care for. No, despite their resemblance, in his mind, they're so vastly different that to compare the two would be like apples and apple trees; connected, obviously, but the thought processes entirely different for each. He wouldn't try to take a bite of the tree any more than he'd be tempted to enjoy a cool afternoon underneath the shade of the fruit.
He loved Katherine, he really truly did. Her fire and her spirit, her cleverness and her will, her playfulness and even her occasional fickleness, were all parts of his dear friend. But Elena smiling and waving at him almost made him trip over his own feet, did in fact make him do just that, and it was only by the grace of a strong grip on one of the sturdy park benches that he didn't go rolling in her direction like a graceless oaf. As it is, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are down as he makes his way over to her.
...he should probably say something instead of looming over her but even something as simple and inconsequential as 'hi' keeps coming up as insufficient and nothing else wants to present itself.
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Which was not to ever say that Katherine was some sort of substitute or in any way someone he didn't care for. No, despite their resemblance, in his mind, they're so vastly different that to compare the two would be like apples and apple trees; connected, obviously, but the thought processes entirely different for each. He wouldn't try to take a bite of the tree any more than he'd be tempted to enjoy a cool afternoon underneath the shade of the fruit.
He loved Katherine, he really truly did. Her fire and her spirit, her cleverness and her will, her playfulness and even her occasional fickleness, were all parts of his dear friend. But Elena smiling and waving at him almost made him trip over his own feet, did in fact make him do just that, and it was only by the grace of a strong grip on one of the sturdy park benches that he didn't go rolling in her direction like a graceless oaf. As it is, his cheeks are pink and his eyes are down as he makes his way over to her.
...he should probably say something instead of looming over her but even something as simple and inconsequential as 'hi' keeps coming up as insufficient and nothing else wants to present itself.