The first comment is so neutral, it's hard to make it do much more than register as words that existed between them. They aren't positive or negative, approval or a demand to stop either one. He doesn't really know what to do with it, what to say about it, but it's in that beat or two of silence, when Diego is debating what, if anything at all, he should say to that, that Luther starts again.
The pause between his start and next set of words almost has Diego pressing for more. Almost. He manages to hold out, still and silent, heart thudding in his own ears as he tries to prepare for whatever hard-snap dressing-down is about to happen right now.
Except. Except it's not that at all, is it?
He feels the stuttered skip in his chest, in his breath, and for a moment breathing is the only thing he remembers how to do. Until he blinks again and draws his jaw tight, to reign in the feeling swelling in his chest. Thiswas approval, and he had wanted something like it for so long that it's frozen him in indecision, no clue how to react to it.
Sure, he's been given a 'Good job, Number Two' here and there, but for some reason... this is different. Feels different. Holds a different kind of weight to it, heavier, like it means something this time. He thinks if he wasn't so aware of every action of his body, he might choked on Luther's words alone. As it is, he's mostly just rooted still to the spot for a long, drawn out moment.
"Well, somebody had to." he quips back, as quick as ever, like he hadn't just been standing there, unable to fully process anything that was happening. It's easier to do this, than be genuine with Luther about what that kind of praise truly means to him.
no subject
The pause between his start and next set of words almost has Diego pressing for more. Almost. He manages to hold out, still and silent, heart thudding in his own ears as he tries to prepare for whatever hard-snap dressing-down is about to happen right now.
Except.
Except it's not that at all, is it?
He feels the stuttered skip in his chest, in his breath, and for a moment breathing is the only thing he remembers how to do. Until he blinks again and draws his jaw tight, to reign in the feeling swelling in his chest. This was approval, and he had wanted something like it for so long that it's frozen him in indecision, no clue how to react to it.
Sure, he's been given a 'Good job, Number Two' here and there, but for some reason... this is different. Feels different. Holds a different kind of weight to it, heavier, like it means something this time. He thinks if he wasn't so aware of every action of his body, he might choked on Luther's words alone. As it is, he's mostly just rooted still to the spot for a long, drawn out moment.
"Well, somebody had to." he quips back, as quick as ever, like he hadn't just been standing there, unable to fully process anything that was happening. It's easier to do this, than be genuine with Luther about what that kind of praise truly means to him.