07-25-2016, 08:56 PM
I hold on just a little too long, just a little too tight, and don’t I always with the people I love? Still, he tolerates it longer than I expected, even hugging me back a little before making an unnecessarily complicated and highly entertaining evasive maneuver. I snort, smirking as he returns to normal and pretends what he did wasn’t the most amazing thing ever.
Just for a moment, anyhow.
Then he smiles, genuine and bright and honest, and I couldn’t agree more. I open my mouth to say as much, but the words fall away when he goes on to suggest next time I should it should be a boy. A son. My stomach clenches and I look away, the smile faltering and dying on my lips. I should say something, but all I can do is shake my head in denial.
My chest feels tight, bound up in shadows and moonlight, and I shrug to shake off the sensation. “Nah,” I answer, trying for light-hearted and failing. “Girls are easier. I’m good at girls. Always have been.” I paint a smirk on my face, though it falls a little flat. “Which seems ironic given my taste in partners.”
I sigh, glancing over to find black eyes watching me, eying the scars still littering my body, and the silent insight pulls a sad little laugh out of me. I nod, looking away, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah. I was kind of a self-destructive wreck. You think the scars are bad now, you should’ve seen ‘em before Mom put years in on ‘em. It’s...I don’t know, it’s not just that. Though that’s part of it. The thought of my--” I can’t even say the word. “...my kid, going through anything like I did, yeah, that’s a fucking nightmare. Definitely plays a part. I’m scared enough about the girls, what they’re going to go through growing up, especially that age.”
God, Dara’s right around that age, and I’ve done my best to keep her safe, make damn sure she knows she’s the whole fucking world to me, make sure she knows that I love her and will always love her no matter what happens. No matter fucking what. Okay, probably to the extent that I almost suffocate her with it sometimes, and that’s not fair to her either, but at least she will never, ever doubt that she is loved and wanted and matters to me more than my own life.
Another sigh, another glance into black eyes that see too much. “I came so close to killing myself so many times, pushing too far, threw myself into fights just a little too reckless, just a little too stacked against me. Because I wanted to hurt. Needed to hurt. I worshipped my mom, she was everything to me when I was little--not…” I pause, glancing back toward the pile of girls where Mom was no doubt cuddled up by now. “I mean, I loved her too, but that first six months it was just me and my twin and...Nocturnal.”
I barely manage not to flinch, still stumble just a little over her name. Not because remembering hurts, exactly. I loved her so damn much, still do even now, even when she’s been gone most of my life, even though she was gone more than she was around even when she was alive. Her name is still something sacred, something holy, and even after all these years it’s still supercharged with all that turmoil.
Guess I’m not that great at laying things to rest after all.
“I don’t know. I got really fucked up, for a long damn time. Zur helped drag me out of that. Dröm...half helped drag me out of it and half tried to make both of us drown in it. Dara...God, I would’ve done anything for that girl. Still would. Including putting all that shit behind me, giving up doing stupid shit like fighting a goddamn tiger just to prove I didn’t need my mom to save me, didn’t need her to think I was good enough, didn’t need her to believe it for me to actually have any kind of worth. And...and all of that was on me. Because she did love me. She was just..she was pretty messed up herself, drowning in it by the time I was a year old, and it pulled her under and shattered everyone who ever loved her.
“There’s a whole lot of her in me. I hated that for a long time. There’s...there’s also a hell of a lot of Mom, and bits that are uniquely mine, and that’s great. But. I don’t now. I can do girls. Don’t hurt the girl, kill anything that fucking tries to hurt the girl, protect the girl, I can fucking do that, it’s been my whole life. But for as much time as I’ve spent putting myself back together, and pretending I don’t still have a million scars beneath the surface now that they’ve faded from my skin...I don’t trust myself enough to be on the other end of that kind of turbulent a relationship without fucking it all up.”
That’s not it, not exactly. “Or. I don’t know, that was true once. Now...I don’t know anymore, Pazuzu. It’s just...it’s a hell of a lot, you know? It’s just a gut thing, just this sick twisting of my insides until I can hardly breathe. It’s funny, because look at Tycho. I couldn’t love him more if he was mine. Because he is mine, the way you and Ryss are, the way Mom is, the way Zur is. Mine by choice, by love. I’d corner him for a talk, man to man, and not blink twice, not get tangled up inside and--same with my girls, it’s always been so easy with Dara, even raising her alone for most of her life. You hand over three more girls at once and I could not be happier. You say the word son, and--”
Jaws clenched, I shudder, shaking my head. “I can’t. I just...I can’t. Is that terrible?” I think I hate myself just a little for still being so damn...ugh, whatever the hell this is, even after all these years. But when I’m all out of words, I finally meet his gaze again.
Just for a moment, anyhow.
Then he smiles, genuine and bright and honest, and I couldn’t agree more. I open my mouth to say as much, but the words fall away when he goes on to suggest next time I should it should be a boy. A son. My stomach clenches and I look away, the smile faltering and dying on my lips. I should say something, but all I can do is shake my head in denial.
My chest feels tight, bound up in shadows and moonlight, and I shrug to shake off the sensation. “Nah,” I answer, trying for light-hearted and failing. “Girls are easier. I’m good at girls. Always have been.” I paint a smirk on my face, though it falls a little flat. “Which seems ironic given my taste in partners.”
I sigh, glancing over to find black eyes watching me, eying the scars still littering my body, and the silent insight pulls a sad little laugh out of me. I nod, looking away, looking anywhere but at him. “Yeah. I was kind of a self-destructive wreck. You think the scars are bad now, you should’ve seen ‘em before Mom put years in on ‘em. It’s...I don’t know, it’s not just that. Though that’s part of it. The thought of my--” I can’t even say the word. “...my kid, going through anything like I did, yeah, that’s a fucking nightmare. Definitely plays a part. I’m scared enough about the girls, what they’re going to go through growing up, especially that age.”
God, Dara’s right around that age, and I’ve done my best to keep her safe, make damn sure she knows she’s the whole fucking world to me, make sure she knows that I love her and will always love her no matter what happens. No matter fucking what. Okay, probably to the extent that I almost suffocate her with it sometimes, and that’s not fair to her either, but at least she will never, ever doubt that she is loved and wanted and matters to me more than my own life.
Another sigh, another glance into black eyes that see too much. “I came so close to killing myself so many times, pushing too far, threw myself into fights just a little too reckless, just a little too stacked against me. Because I wanted to hurt. Needed to hurt. I worshipped my mom, she was everything to me when I was little--not…” I pause, glancing back toward the pile of girls where Mom was no doubt cuddled up by now. “I mean, I loved her too, but that first six months it was just me and my twin and...Nocturnal.”
I barely manage not to flinch, still stumble just a little over her name. Not because remembering hurts, exactly. I loved her so damn much, still do even now, even when she’s been gone most of my life, even though she was gone more than she was around even when she was alive. Her name is still something sacred, something holy, and even after all these years it’s still supercharged with all that turmoil.
Guess I’m not that great at laying things to rest after all.
“I don’t know. I got really fucked up, for a long damn time. Zur helped drag me out of that. Dröm...half helped drag me out of it and half tried to make both of us drown in it. Dara...God, I would’ve done anything for that girl. Still would. Including putting all that shit behind me, giving up doing stupid shit like fighting a goddamn tiger just to prove I didn’t need my mom to save me, didn’t need her to think I was good enough, didn’t need her to believe it for me to actually have any kind of worth. And...and all of that was on me. Because she did love me. She was just..she was pretty messed up herself, drowning in it by the time I was a year old, and it pulled her under and shattered everyone who ever loved her.
“There’s a whole lot of her in me. I hated that for a long time. There’s...there’s also a hell of a lot of Mom, and bits that are uniquely mine, and that’s great. But. I don’t now. I can do girls. Don’t hurt the girl, kill anything that fucking tries to hurt the girl, protect the girl, I can fucking do that, it’s been my whole life. But for as much time as I’ve spent putting myself back together, and pretending I don’t still have a million scars beneath the surface now that they’ve faded from my skin...I don’t trust myself enough to be on the other end of that kind of turbulent a relationship without fucking it all up.”
That’s not it, not exactly. “Or. I don’t know, that was true once. Now...I don’t know anymore, Pazuzu. It’s just...it’s a hell of a lot, you know? It’s just a gut thing, just this sick twisting of my insides until I can hardly breathe. It’s funny, because look at Tycho. I couldn’t love him more if he was mine. Because he is mine, the way you and Ryss are, the way Mom is, the way Zur is. Mine by choice, by love. I’d corner him for a talk, man to man, and not blink twice, not get tangled up inside and--same with my girls, it’s always been so easy with Dara, even raising her alone for most of her life. You hand over three more girls at once and I could not be happier. You say the word son, and--”
Jaws clenched, I shudder, shaking my head. “I can’t. I just...I can’t. Is that terrible?” I think I hate myself just a little for still being so damn...ugh, whatever the hell this is, even after all these years. But when I’m all out of words, I finally meet his gaze again.