Guy holds eye contact with Yuri as the moment stretches. Seconds tick by, feeling shorter and faster somehow, and Guy's fake expression melts off. He knows they're passing any acceptable length of silence in civilized conversation, logically, but he doesn't look away - Yuri doesn't either, so he's just as much to blame! - and he just can't figure out the words that say more than saying nothing.

As little as Guy had thought of the Drift itself, he had imagined the type of people he'd be able to Drift with en entirety. It would have to be a complete stranger, he'd decided. Another survivor. Someone else with giants crushing their memories. Probably someone not very nice - his deeper thoughts might disgust someone too noble. The most common conclusion Guy reached was, quite simply, a criminal with a chip on his shoulder.

He swallows, the bob in his throat sliding, under Yuri's gaze. Now, in just a few minutes, he isn't so sure he's right about that, and for the first time he feels unprepared.

Yuri Lowell... the orphan brat who'd pulled his hair, called him names and yelled at him to believe in himself. It feels like he was inside his walls already, and they hadn't even talked.