Nothing's going to fix it! Part of me is missing. It's gone, and I'd rather not have to figure out how to deal with that dragging what's left around in front of a bunch of strangers, trying to figure out if they pity me or if they're just glad it wasn't them! I can barely handle that when it's just you!
[It's quiet for a very long time, the only noise his breathing and the scrape of the chair as he sits at the desk. Another snick of the lighter as he chain-smokes his way through his thoughts.
Nothing's going to fix it - not what he meant, but clarifying is on the bottom of the list of priorities given the rest. There's the hint that the move might not be permanent, and it's tempting to dwell on that, poke it until he can get a promise from her if not a set date. But it's also enough to pull him back into a more rational mindset, and so he has the presence of mind to decide that that can wait, too.
[It follows a silence not nearly as long as his - during which she curled herself into a ball on her new bed and chewed at her lip until the taste of blood stopped her - but (miracle of miracles) it's not actually bitchy. Quiet, vulnerable and a little hesitant, but not cruel.]
Maybe you should. I know you're trying, but - it's so different. And I get why, I do, but I miss the way we were. I miss how I was.
[Frown, frown frown. And then - that familiar little thread of panic skating up his spine, so when he speaks it's a little rushed, a little breathless.]
[She can hear the panic, and it hurts. She could say no. Go back. Try to make nice with whoever ends up on their floor, try to talk to him about everything she's worried about.
But right now, she's just not strong enough. Her answer's strained, croaky.]
I just need some time. A - a reset, maybe. I want to be better, but I can't get there while I'm worrying about what people think of me.
I - [what he wants to do is just shut it down, no, no he can't and that's that - and he shakes his head - but she deserves an attempt at it. So he heaves out a breath and tries to Words.]
[She might not understand, but she thinks she does. Thinks that he can't leave for the same reason she felt trapped, even before the threat of other people in their space. There's so much established there, ghosts of better times - Russia's room, Takeshi's room. The bathroom of the bubble beards. Their rooms, where they'd been able to tangle up in each other and forget where they were, if just for a little while. He needs to keep things - his possessions, his people, his places. She can't help feeling like she needs to be away from them if she's going to feel anything that isn't regret, mourning.]
[She's close, she has the crux of it. A place, to him, to his kind, is much more than a place. It's life, it's them - all of those thoughts are right. 002 means bubble beards and breakdowns in bathrooms and hundreds of silent breakfasts that carve themselves into his soul like a groove into a brain. Fuck, maybe they do carve themselves in that way.
But he doesn't see it from her point of view - that she needs the distance.]
[Ouch. The first thing has her physically cringing, face twisting into a mask of upset, relieved he can't actually see her. She wants to argue, wants to prove it, but even in the state she's in she knows she can't do that with words. Probably the only thing he'd take as proof would be her coming back; but if she burns out, dashes herself to pieces on the walls of all her doubts, what the hell good is her love going to do him?
Instead:]
But I know. You wouldn't -
[Sorry, Netherlands, it's crying again. Noisy and wet and gross, right into the communicator like that.]
No reason to keep me around like this if you didn't. I just -
[Worry that he's not in love with her anymore. There's a difference.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
no subject
Nothing's going to fix it - not what he meant, but clarifying is on the bottom of the list of priorities given the rest. There's the hint that the move might not be permanent, and it's tempting to dwell on that, poke it until he can get a promise from her if not a set date. But it's also enough to pull him back into a more rational mindset, and so he has the presence of mind to decide that that can wait, too.
Which means:]
I don't. Think that, I mean.
[Surely she doesn't think he does, right.]
no subject
[It follows a silence not nearly as long as his - during which she curled herself into a ball on her new bed and chewed at her lip until the taste of blood stopped her - but (miracle of miracles) it's not actually bitchy. Quiet, vulnerable and a little hesitant, but not cruel.]
Maybe you should. I know you're trying, but - it's so different. And I get why, I do, but I miss the way we were. I miss how I was.
no subject
I don't - so you're. Staying, there.
no subject
But right now, she's just not strong enough. Her answer's strained, croaky.]
I just need some time. A - a reset, maybe. I want to be better, but I can't get there while I'm worrying about what people think of me.
no subject
no subject
no subject
no subject
[and they need to have A Talk, but it's not one she looks forward to.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
before suddenly: speech.]
I can't go up there.
no subject
is unexpected. Although it might be for the best.]
What? Why?
no subject
It's not here.
no subject
[She might not understand, but she thinks she does. Thinks that he can't leave for the same reason she felt trapped, even before the threat of other people in their space. There's so much established there, ghosts of better times - Russia's room, Takeshi's room. The bathroom of the bubble beards. Their rooms, where they'd been able to tangle up in each other and forget where they were, if just for a little while. He needs to keep things - his possessions, his people, his places. She can't help feeling like she needs to be away from them if she's going to feel anything that isn't regret, mourning.]
That's... okay. That's fine.
no subject
But he doesn't see it from her point of view - that she needs the distance.]
Right.
[Dully. Resigned.]
no subject
[Hate me, is what she's thinking, because in a way that leaden acceptance is worse than when he was yelling.]
I love you. I still love you. You know that, right?
no subject
No.
no subject
You can't hear it. When I say it.
no subject
Instead:]
But I know. You wouldn't -
[Sorry, Netherlands, it's crying again. Noisy and wet and gross, right into the communicator like that.]
No reason to keep me around like this if you didn't. I just -
[Worry that he's not in love with her anymore. There's a difference.]
no subject
no subject
no subject
[And in that is supposed to be every nuance he can't say aloud.]
no subject
no subject
When.
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)
(no subject)