[The lack of sympathy in his eyes helps dull the reaction of Damascus being brought up. The slow approach is comforting in its own, but a look other than this would have been read as pity. Still, Oren can't look at him directly, looking down, across the room, to the side. He feels trapped by these words and it's an uncomfortable feeling, one he wants to lash out against.
But their weight is too much. It's been on his mind entirely. His relationship with Mattias was something he still didn't understand. Nocta wasn't here. He half hoped that she would never be again, that he'd be rid of this responsibility and not to blame for it. He realizes that he's grown fond of spending time with Mattias. That he's the only one who grows close to understanding him.
But he still doesn't understand him enough. He's still one step from abandoning him, if he hasn't already. He's still selfish. Mattias is the selfish one.
He feels the touch at his shirt and drops his hand from his face slowly, eyes rising to meet Mattias', and for once, there's fear in them. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to please Damascus like this?
And why does he crave this closeness in a way above anyone else's?
His gaze hardens again and he looks away.]
Then why does it feel as if I have?
[Stopped being his love. There's not that same loyalty, that same willingness. Oren believes he understands the relationship between his future actions and the fear now, but his view isn't quite right. He feels this is exaggerated. That his own actions are more forgivable than this.]
No, it's fine, don't answer that. [Just seconds later, he regrets opening emotionally like that and pulls back, slowly heading for the door. But he pauses a few feet from it, turning to look back and speak in almost-hesitation.]
[He could argue. He could debate and stress and add all the emphasis he wanted but it still wouldn't reach him. Nothing would. Nothing true, at least. Every man had his fantasy and large as his was, Mattias had to wonder if Oren's was more voluminous in expanse.
Mattias lets him leave without a fight. Turning to the bed, he begins to unbutton his shirt.]
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no subject
Date: 2015-05-11 02:08 am (UTC)But their weight is too much. It's been on his mind entirely. His relationship with Mattias was something he still didn't understand. Nocta wasn't here. He half hoped that she would never be again, that he'd be rid of this responsibility and not to blame for it. He realizes that he's grown fond of spending time with Mattias. That he's the only one who grows close to understanding him.
But he still doesn't understand him enough. He's still one step from abandoning him, if he hasn't already. He's still selfish. Mattias is the selfish one.
He feels the touch at his shirt and drops his hand from his face slowly, eyes rising to meet Mattias', and for once, there's fear in them. What is he supposed to do? How is he supposed to please Damascus like this?
And why does he crave this closeness in a way above anyone else's?
His gaze hardens again and he looks away.]
Then why does it feel as if I have?
[Stopped being his love. There's not that same loyalty, that same willingness. Oren believes he understands the relationship between his future actions and the fear now, but his view isn't quite right. He feels this is exaggerated. That his own actions are more forgivable than this.]
No, it's fine, don't answer that. [Just seconds later, he regrets opening emotionally like that and pulls back, slowly heading for the door. But he pauses a few feet from it, turning to look back and speak in almost-hesitation.]
Tomorrow night. Drinks? [Was it still on?]
no subject
Date: 2015-05-11 02:24 am (UTC)Mattias lets him leave without a fight. Turning to the bed, he begins to unbutton his shirt.]
Drinks. Tomorrow night. We meet at the bar.
[He says it with finality.]