He's glad that Ben is relaxing more, it helps him relax some too. Marginally, at best, because he keeps asking questions that Klaus doesn't actually have answers to. Even though he should. He should know all of this, and so much more.
"Pumping your body full of poison again, I see."
"Such a waste of potential."
"What are you afraid of, the dark?"
"You are my greatest disappointment, Number Four."
Klaus drags both hands through his hair, fingers tangling between messy strands, half-doubled-over his knees, letting out a groan that is frustrated and self-loathing and disappointed--
--but it's all over in the smallest handful of seconds, hands back in his lap, eyes on his brother in front of him, and everything about him calm. That eerie kind of calm he used to get after training sessions with Dad.
"I- I... I don't know, Ben. Um.." His gaze drops. His fingers get fidgety again. "I haven't, uh- gotten- gotten any better at..." One hand lifts and waves in a slow circle. "any of this." He looks back up, a smile on his lips that has no humor or brightness in it at all and is only a sad echo of what a smile is supposed to be. "It's, uh-" he clears his throat. "It's been a... hard year. After you-- I mean, I just--" That smile comes back and he shrugs and spreads his hands, which almost immediately fall back into his lap.
And that's where the explanation ends.
Like that's any kind of explanation at all.
Surprise, Ben. You died. Surprise, Ben. Your brother is still a fuck up. Ya-ay?
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"Pumping your body full of poison again, I see."
"What are you afraid of, the dark?"
Klaus drags both hands through his hair, fingers tangling between messy strands, half-doubled-over his knees, letting out a groan that is frustrated and self-loathing and disappointed--
--but it's all over in the smallest handful of seconds, hands back in his lap, eyes on his brother in front of him, and everything about him calm. That eerie kind of calm he used to get after training sessions with Dad.
"I- I... I don't know, Ben. Um.." His gaze drops. His fingers get fidgety again. "I haven't, uh- gotten- gotten any better at..." One hand lifts and waves in a slow circle. "any of this." He looks back up, a smile on his lips that has no humor or brightness in it at all and is only a sad echo of what a smile is supposed to be. "It's, uh-" he clears his throat. "It's been a... hard year. After you-- I mean, I just--" That smile comes back and he shrugs and spreads his hands, which almost immediately fall back into his lap.
And that's where the explanation ends.
Like that's any kind of explanation at all.
Surprise, Ben. You died.
Surprise, Ben. Your brother is still a fuck up.
Ya-ay?