Kerr blinked down at her, something within him faltering at the knowledge that she\'d seen Ben in the flesh, but didn\'t know what Ichabod looked like (yet she knew about him, because \'people\' talked and she... listened). He didn\'t blame her for keeping in touch with him in such a manner - in her place, he knew he would\'ve been interested in hearing about an ex-lover\'s state of being once things had come to a heart-wrenching but amicable end for them - yet it made him feel... awkward. Embarrassed? Was that a better word? He took a moment to explore it, to decide.
Jenna was a fire demon and she had every right to free access to the Chambers as all supernaturals did - especially since, as far as he knew, she still went there for training her demonic talents. But they\'d broken up and Kerr had chosen to return to the one he\'d loved first and strongest. For a while there, things were dissonant between he and Ben and there\'d been many nights where Kerr had lamented his choice, feeling the numb and abused man he was laying beside a poor substitute, when this beautiful, warm woman, full of life and intelligence, yearned for him as much as he did her, just across the city.
In the end, his perseverance with Ben had won out and though it had taken a lot of work through the past two years, they were stronger every day. Ichabod leaving had allowed them even more freedom to explore each other\'s romantic and whimsical sides, to connect souls as they once had. Yet Kerr still felt safer with Jenna, with the knowledge that she\'d never betrayed him, she still wasn\'t seeing anyone else, that she\'d never proven herself false and vexed him to the point of tearing his heart out. She\'d simply loved him and graciously allowed him to pursue his masochistic feelings when she felt he wouldn\'t remain willingly tethered to her.
Guilt, that was the root of his awkwardness. Jenna was pure, to Kerr. Wholesome, modest, beautiful, delectable... there were no negative words he could summon in his thoughts of her. To hear that she\'d passed so close to Ben, that she\'d conversationally opened herself up to hearing about Ichabod... it made him feel tawdry by comparison, that she should rub shoulders with his complicated, convoluted and really rather twisted life. He wanted to protect
keep
her
to himself, a secret
even though he wondered what she\'d thought as she\'d gazed at Ben and listened to the story of Kerr complicating his life further by taking on another fledgling, even as he\'d left Jenna vowing a need for simplicity and focus.
That was another part of it; he almost felt he\'d betrayed her by siring Ichabod - even though it had been nothing to do with her and an entirely spontaneous decision in order to stop the then-mortal from committing himself to an asshole. If he\'d been ready to cope with another besides Ben in his life... why hadn\'t it been her? Why couldn\'t he have called her and kept meeting regularly with her while he worked things through with Ben in his own time, why invite a foreign third in, when she\'d been available to use spare time with?
The truth of the matter was something he sensed Ben knew, and hopefully she did too. He\'d loved her too much, to dally with her. She was too important, he\'d been
too in love with her
too weak to resist her then - fuck, he had a hard enough time of it now, two years later! - and so he\'d kept her at arm\'s length, even though he\'d invited someone different closer to him. She didn\'t see that he\'d betrayed her in the way he thought he had, obviously, but that was just a further testament to how lovely she was, how generous and beautiful of heart. His grip tightened on hers and he suddenly wanted to cry for the loss of her, even though she was right beside him.
She was gone. He\'d shed enough tears and lamented her loss for too long, he really needed to accept it.
"I don\'t think it would\'ve been imposing," he smiled sadly at her, his feelings thickening his voice inexplicably so he had to clear it, hoping she didn\'t hear how emotional he was getting - just because she\'d seen Ben, for Christ\'s sake! "Though I\'m somewhat glad you didn\'t speak to him; I couldn\'t guarantee he\'d be as nice to you as you deserve. He has... an abrasive manner with many people. It makes me cringe, at times. With you... well, I can\'t see him being genuinely friendly because he knows how serious I amwas about you."
His hasty correction wouldn\'t fool her - there was no easy way to pull out of such a tiny present tense verb as \'am\' in order to pretend that things had changed by switching it to a past tense at the last second. She\'d hear it and he was embarrassed to have changed it anyway, it stood out more because he\'d tried telling her he was serious about her now, then switched it and it made him feel like an absolute asshole. His feelings for her were still serious but it wouldn\'t do them any favours in discussing that, not when they were doing such a fine job of spending time together as friends.
Left floundering and emotional, he was afraid to speak then, unable to think of a good way to dig himself out of that pit and relying on her graciousness to smooth things over for them. He swallowed hard and blinked into the wind as he looked out at the sea instead of at her, feeling strangled by his emotions and tongue-tied by his foolishness. His jaw was set and he fretted at his tongue stud with his teeth, rather wishing the beach would open up and swallow him whole to save him any further indignity this night.
