[She glances at the bottle when he knocks back that drink, gauging how much is left; she's barely touched her own. But she listens, halfway across the room, arms folded against her ribs.
It's hard not to be defensive in turn.]
The last few guys I was with rarely told me shit, so sorry if I'm a little burnt out on guessing where I really stand.
[He wants to tell her, he really does, but he also wants to stalk off and sulk about it. He chooses both.
Standing up, he places the glass upside down on the table, fingertips pressing against the bottom. Still not looking at her yet. He's defensive. Angry. Hurt.]
Then listen. I like that you're a fucking force when you have to be, but you want to be soft. That you like the fancy shit. And you always want to do better. Be better. Than everyone else. Than yourself. I like havin' fun with you, sure, but I ain't that kinda man anymore.
But this right here? This is bullshit, Tess. [And he finally turns to her.]
I sure as fuck didn't lie to you. And I don't know what you want from me, but I'm tellin' you the truth. So you figure out what you want, then you come find me.
[She's not entirely sure whether to take him seriously at first, not with his gaze fixed away from her, not when what she'd love to hear in any other moment is capped like that.
And truthfully, she isn't sure what she wants, either. There are so many things she wants, and sure, one is him, or could be him –– but how on earth does she say it? She can barely tell Arthur to his face how much he matters, and that's the least complicated relationship in her life, or at least the most reliable one. She never got to figure out where she stood with Joel, not really, and she doesn't imagine she ever will. Butcher's gone. She never got to tell so many people anything. She's supposed to just figure that out?
Tess just swallows her breath. She's sure her eyes are glassy. She's never been particularly good at anything approaching a poker face in these situations, and the sting in her eyes is there even if she pretends it isn't.]
[He doesn't know what he was expecting. A blow up, maybe. More angry words. Something defensive. Something else. But not this.
He wishes they could go back to that. At least then he knew she felt something, but now he's pretty sure that she doesn't. That he had completely misjudged this whole damn situation. That she was throwing all of that around for -- for nothing. He doesn't know. He can't know because she doesn't say.
For a moment, it seems like he might add something else, but he doesn't. He's fucked no matter what. Tell a lie, that's no good. Tell the truth, that's no good.
He gives her a nod.]
Yeah. Later.
[And, with that, he turns to head out of the door, just barely resisting the urge to slam it behind him before he storms off down the hallway to go hit something that isn't a wall.]
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no subject
It's hard not to be defensive in turn.]
The last few guys I was with rarely told me shit, so sorry if I'm a little burnt out on guessing where I really stand.
no subject
Standing up, he places the glass upside down on the table, fingertips pressing against the bottom. Still not looking at her yet. He's defensive. Angry. Hurt.]
Then listen. I like that you're a fucking force when you have to be, but you want to be soft. That you like the fancy shit. And you always want to do better. Be better. Than everyone else. Than yourself. I like havin' fun with you, sure, but I ain't that kinda man anymore.
But this right here? This is bullshit, Tess. [And he finally turns to her.]
I sure as fuck didn't lie to you. And I don't know what you want from me, but I'm tellin' you the truth. So you figure out what you want, then you come find me.
no subject
And truthfully, she isn't sure what she wants, either. There are so many things she wants, and sure, one is him, or could be him –– but how on earth does she say it? She can barely tell Arthur to his face how much he matters, and that's the least complicated relationship in her life, or at least the most reliable one. She never got to figure out where she stood with Joel, not really, and she doesn't imagine she ever will. Butcher's gone. She never got to tell so many people anything. She's supposed to just figure that out?
Tess just swallows her breath. She's sure her eyes are glassy. She's never been particularly good at anything approaching a poker face in these situations, and the sting in her eyes is there even if she pretends it isn't.]
Fine. Talk to you later or something.
no subject
He wishes they could go back to that. At least then he knew she felt something, but now he's pretty sure that she doesn't. That he had completely misjudged this whole damn situation. That she was throwing all of that around for -- for nothing. He doesn't know. He can't know because she doesn't say.
For a moment, it seems like he might add something else, but he doesn't. He's fucked no matter what. Tell a lie, that's no good. Tell the truth, that's no good.
He gives her a nod.]
Yeah. Later.
[And, with that, he turns to head out of the door, just barely resisting the urge to slam it behind him before he storms off down the hallway to go hit something that isn't a wall.]