[Somewhere in the back of his skull, Edward can feel the brief drag of Stede's attention focusing on him. The general sensation isn't new. People tended, when he was in a space, to feel the need to keep an eye on him and his movements. Most of the time, it was out of a palpable fear. With the crew, it tended to be something slightly more nervously respectful. With those who most often carried his life in their hands, with Izzy and Fang and Ivan, it came with a faint wariness; a keen awareness of how quickly moods could turn and calm could become a storm lashing in any direction.
With Stede, it's different. It prickles in a few of the same places--some edge of knowing, of tracking, of wanting to keep a half-step ahead of whatever came next--but also simply felt... well. Odd, but there weren't other words than like being seen.
It's easy to remain at ease under even the lingering attention, Edward's own spinning here and there in the room until the other man was just beside him again.]
no subject
With Stede, it's different. It prickles in a few of the same places--some edge of knowing, of tracking, of wanting to keep a half-step ahead of whatever came next--but also simply felt... well. Odd, but there weren't other words than like being seen.
It's easy to remain at ease under even the lingering attention, Edward's own spinning here and there in the room until the other man was just beside him again.]
Do your worst.