[Something about the way Stolas doesn't look at him when he asks subdues him. It feels hopeless, suddenly, like the question is a dead end, because he doesn't fucking know which it is. So he just goes still, or he tries to despite the way his whole body is shaking, and he thinks about it.]
[In pretty immediate order, the idea of losing Stolas, of him going-- it wrenches an ugly sound from the imp, and he ducks his head against the way his eyes suddenly burn so hot it crawls up the back of his throat. He worries for a split second he's going to be sick, but instead he's just crying, which is maybe better than throwing up on the living room floor, but only just. He's hoarse, his throat feeling like it's the width of a soda straw, but he coughs out a stumbling thought anyway.]
If I said, "I want you to stay", would it make any difference? If I said "I want you to stay here with me", would you? [He picks his head up, the words chosen specifically to call back to what Stolas hadn't given him the chance to understand, what he'd gotten angry about instead. And he's a mess, standing there, hunched forward and acting like he's not losing every bit of shit he's ever had in the living room of an apartment that looks too much and nothing at all like the one he lived in in Hell, like he's not falling apart because he doesn't fucking know what he wants, except that he wants Stolas and he fucking shouldn't.]
no subject
[In pretty immediate order, the idea of losing Stolas, of him going-- it wrenches an ugly sound from the imp, and he ducks his head against the way his eyes suddenly burn so hot it crawls up the back of his throat. He worries for a split second he's going to be sick, but instead he's just crying, which is maybe better than throwing up on the living room floor, but only just. He's hoarse, his throat feeling like it's the width of a soda straw, but he coughs out a stumbling thought anyway.]
If I said, "I want you to stay", would it make any difference? If I said "I want you to stay here with me", would you? [He picks his head up, the words chosen specifically to call back to what Stolas hadn't given him the chance to understand, what he'd gotten angry about instead. And he's a mess, standing there, hunched forward and acting like he's not losing every bit of shit he's ever had in the living room of an apartment that looks too much and nothing at all like the one he lived in in Hell, like he's not falling apart because he doesn't fucking know what he wants, except that he wants Stolas and he fucking shouldn't.]