[Someone else might feel special, or seen, at the man's considerate - genuine - words. Itachi is not one of them. His otherness has been known to him since he was a child, and it's never served as anything more than a negative division between him and his peers. Not in any sense that he feels upset for himself, except in a form of distant, objective dislike for his own existence, but he's accustomed to being different.
It doesn't surprise him that Ignis has picked up on that; more remarkable is his willingness not only to point it out, but also pursue further conversation in light of it. Curiosity. He can't deny he feels the same toward this man. There's an undeniable draw to that cool, logical, charismatic personality, something he imagines Ignis uses to sway many. He only suspects that, should any of his own secrets gradually become unpeeled, he will face either abrupt rejection or a kind of detached pity - like someone watching an animal struggle in thorns, who cannot share its pain but feels badly the animal has to endure it nonetheless. It isn't something he would ever blame them for.
He decides not to respond to the first comment, knowing the lack of answer should confirm it well enough. Itachi can feel himself beginning to shutter against the direct scrutiny.]
When faced with something very different than what is familiar, it's natural to feel curious. Many of us come from strange places, with unique histories. [Wow, look at how deflective he's being now. His eyes pointedly lower.] It's getting late. I should leave.
no subject
It doesn't surprise him that Ignis has picked up on that; more remarkable is his willingness not only to point it out, but also pursue further conversation in light of it. Curiosity. He can't deny he feels the same toward this man. There's an undeniable draw to that cool, logical, charismatic personality, something he imagines Ignis uses to sway many. He only suspects that, should any of his own secrets gradually become unpeeled, he will face either abrupt rejection or a kind of detached pity - like someone watching an animal struggle in thorns, who cannot share its pain but feels badly the animal has to endure it nonetheless. It isn't something he would ever blame them for.
He decides not to respond to the first comment, knowing the lack of answer should confirm it well enough. Itachi can feel himself beginning to shutter against the direct scrutiny.]
When faced with something very different than what is familiar, it's natural to feel curious. Many of us come from strange places, with unique histories. [Wow, look at how deflective he's being now. His eyes pointedly lower.] It's getting late. I should leave.