He doesn't know how he feels about most things. He's not so good at introspection. And though he's very good at finding words with which to argue, if it's a matter of denying himself - I can't, I don't; any sort of self-negation - he finds him short on them here.
Maybe the scariest thing isn't living like this, but finding something that makes him want to. A thing that makes him suffer through the empty, day in and day out, chasing the faintest glimmer of hope through the relentless Sahara, like he had with Niamh.
Maybe he'd never changed very much after all.
And yet, )
... I can't promise anything.
( He slowly exhales, the breath he hadn't known he was holding. Barrett's knuckles brush light against the jaw. He closes his eyes. And he lifts his hand to press against the back of Barrett's own, their positions reversed.
He can't promise anything. But maybe there's some chance he can try.
His fingers curl around Barrett's hand, like he's asking him to stay, despite everything. )
no subject
He doesn't know how he feels about most things. He's not so good at introspection. And though he's very good at finding words with which to argue, if it's a matter of denying himself - I can't, I don't; any sort of self-negation - he finds him short on them here.
Maybe the scariest thing isn't living like this, but finding something that makes him want to. A thing that makes him suffer through the empty, day in and day out, chasing the faintest glimmer of hope through the relentless Sahara, like he had with Niamh.
Maybe he'd never changed very much after all.
And yet, )
... I can't promise anything.
( He slowly exhales, the breath he hadn't known he was holding. Barrett's knuckles brush light against the jaw. He closes his eyes. And he lifts his hand to press against the back of Barrett's own, their positions reversed.
He can't promise anything. But maybe there's some chance he can try.
His fingers curl around Barrett's hand, like he's asking him to stay, despite everything. )