Diego doesn't stop him from pulling away, but he watches him, silent. Letting him move about as if nothing has happened, as if they're still discussing the stupid plans that Allison had originally thought for Klaus, as if they're talking about Claire's frilly outfits and the threat of dress-up. As if either of them are even hungry anymore for the food they're making.
That's also what all Hargreeves do, isn't it? Their house is littered with silent pain, restrained emotions, weaknesses squashed down before they could even fully master them. It's part of the reason why they're all so fucked up, why everything always goes sideways every. damn. time.
And for a moment, Diego even plays along. He lets Klaus get out what he needs to from the cabinets and drawers, while he himself finishes making another sandwich. He even shakes his head at the offer of juice, before he butters another slice of bread. At the rate he's going, and the fact that neither of them will probably eat anymore, Claire and Allison will have grilled cheese sandwiches for the rest of the day.
"You don't have to do that, you know." It's a belated comment, and he knows it, but he had been trying to almost calibrate his voice in a way that it wouldn't come out like an accusation. He doesn't turn to Klaus, as if somehow that will make it easier to listen to what he's about to say. "This that you're doing, being all lively and shit. Not with me. Not if you're not feeling it." He glances towards him then; there's not a glare, just that same understanding that had been in his eyes that day in the car. That night in the infirmary. "You want to do it for Allison, for Claire? That's fine. But don't burn energy on it for me. And, honestly? Allison would probably tell you the same thing if she could."
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That's also what all Hargreeves do, isn't it? Their house is littered with silent pain, restrained emotions, weaknesses squashed down before they could even fully master them. It's part of the reason why they're all so fucked up, why everything always goes sideways every. damn. time.
And for a moment, Diego even plays along. He lets Klaus get out what he needs to from the cabinets and drawers, while he himself finishes making another sandwich. He even shakes his head at the offer of juice, before he butters another slice of bread. At the rate he's going, and the fact that neither of them will probably eat anymore, Claire and Allison will have grilled cheese sandwiches for the rest of the day.
"You don't have to do that, you know." It's a belated comment, and he knows it, but he had been trying to almost calibrate his voice in a way that it wouldn't come out like an accusation. He doesn't turn to Klaus, as if somehow that will make it easier to listen to what he's about to say. "This that you're doing, being all lively and shit. Not with me. Not if you're not feeling it." He glances towards him then; there's not a glare, just that same understanding that had been in his eyes that day in the car. That night in the infirmary. "You want to do it for Allison, for Claire? That's fine. But don't burn energy on it for me. And, honestly? Allison would probably tell you the same thing if she could."