[ It's another four minutes and thirty-six seconds before Spock arrives. He is availing himself of the tracker on his phone to alert him as to Kirk's whereabouts, after all, and his mind is nothing if not longing for distraction.
Each second passes slowly as he wipes one mental slate clean to then fill it with new calculations, another propped up to list emotional variables, another their duties as servicemen. He's run through the scenarios countless times, always taking care to go only as far as is necessary to arrive at the "no" without allowing himself to indulge in further, extraneous fantasy.
He arrives at it again before he reaches the house. It twists in his gut, painful, compromising, and all of his mental energies are redirected to shutting the door on every emotion attached to the name "Kirk". ]
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Each second passes slowly as he wipes one mental slate clean to then fill it with new calculations, another propped up to list emotional variables, another their duties as servicemen. He's run through the scenarios countless times, always taking care to go only as far as is necessary to arrive at the "no" without allowing himself to indulge in further, extraneous fantasy.
He arrives at it again before he reaches the house. It twists in his gut, painful, compromising, and all of his mental energies are redirected to shutting the door on every emotion attached to the name "Kirk". ]