[Accord]
It was always a little unnerving to make eye contact with someone with white-blue eyes. It just struck her as such a strange, and inhumanly cold colour, and it was difficult to reconcile the fact that it was a perfectly normal eye colour with the discomfort she sometimes felt.
Yuriy had the damn-near magical ability to amplify that discomfort tenfold, to twist it and mould it and make it into something like dread, like her first impression about the colour of his eyes was right somehow. Bumping into him in the hallways, however fleetingly, briefly, had been like that. Awkward and disturbing and frightening after only a split second of eye contact.
Now, however... Now wasn't quite so bad. There was something a little less cold in his eyes now, and the uneasiness she normally felt was barely noticeable.
"You're back." He said, and, as always, there was no emotion in that familiar drawl of his. It was the first thing he'd said to her in three weeks.
Jayda glanced at Sergei, Ivan, and Boris. They watched her like a scientist watches a rat trying to navigate a complex maze –hoping the rodent would get it right, but not even considering moving to help it. It was a little unsettling.
Not as unsettling –read terrifying- as being kidnapped by Boris, certainly, but definitely up there.
She met Yuriy's eyes again, and the answer rolled off of her tongue before she'd really even thought about it, hesitant, "...I guess I am."
There it was. Quiet, a little hesitant, and filled with a damnable undertone of hope. She could school her expressions, control her body language, even stifle some knee-jerk reactions, but she'd never been able to control the tremors and lilts and undertones that her voice carried.
Yuriy nodded, as if that was only right and proper, and disappeared into the kitchen.
Like she was some prodigal lamb finally returning to the fold.
She'd be damned if she knew why, but it was like she'd stayed underwater for too long, and now she could breathe again.