[It wasn't very often he was stuck silent. But this, this was one of those time. Oh sweet merciless Satan, that line started a whole cascade of emotions toppling inside. It wasn't too long ago that the imp gave him a hard time for his love of sappy romcoms. Now Blitzø was spouting them with a straight face. This sudden change of heart still caught the goetia off guard. Where was this side of him before?
His whole heart-shaped face darkens with a deep flush as he continues to stare wide eyed at the imp. God, this silence has stretched on for too long. All four of his eyes fluttered, turning to head slightly to the side as a ghost of a smile haunts the corners of his beak.]
[He instinctively wants to make some kind of joke-- that neither of them are going anywhere, because they're stuck in weird ocean and giant turtles land, and that does settle like a little stone at the back of his mind, but he has to trust that isn't what Stolas meant. That he meant it as a concept, that he wasn't leaving Blitzø, that he wasn't getting on the figurative train to figurative London in the figurative rom-com that had become their life.]
[He leans forward until his forehead is pressed against Stolas' side.] Good. Me either.
[Stolas didn't move as Blitzø leans up against him. His warmth actually felt... calming. He could get used to this side of him.
Again, a moment of comfortable silence passed between them. This was not how he had pictured this Talk going. Maybe it was just his past experiences but he was fully braced for yelling and tears. Not that he was complaining about the outcome. Yet... there was still one burning issue that needed to be ironed out.]
So, Blitz.... About us... [He pauses.] Are you suggesting that you want to give it another try?
[This side of him-- this sweeter, gentler side of a roguish, volatile creature who kills for a living and enjoys it... It's always been there, it's who he is at his core, but years of hardship and self-inflicted isolation have turned softness to stone, sugar to crystal. What's worse, he can't help but reach out and try, can't help but let some of the kindness in his heart seep through the cracks of the barrier he's built around it. But he misreads, and he doesn't communicate well when he's hurt, so he internalizes everything, and it's turned him harsh.]
[This was hardly all they needed to discuss, all they needed to lay out and explain, to understand about one another, but... Stolas shifting the topic drew Blitzø out of the near-doze he'd slipped into. He makes a curious grunt of sound and sits up again, blinking a few times and then scrunching his eyes closed to process the question.]
...don't get mad at me for saying this, but there wasn't an us to really speak of before. I'm-- that's on me, mostly. [His body coils again, back into the couch cushions with his tail wound around himself.] ...but. If you... [He exhales, curling his arms around his knees and ignoring the way his whole frame is shaking slightly.] If you want there to be an us. [He blinks at his knees, holding his breath, eventually mashing his face into them because he can't look at Stolas right now.] Then, yeah. "Us" sounds fucking great.
[That ember of that warm fuzzy feeling was promptly snuffed out remembering 'them' from before. Right, they never were an us before. Reacting on instinct, he pulled back his hands to hug his arms. So... if him being kind to him wasn't because Blitzø wanted to be with him then... was he misreading their situation again?
Stolas's brows furrowed slightly as his grip tightens.]
Blitz.... I want to do this properly if we are to pursue this. I... may not be ready but.... I want to be.
[He stays curled into his knees, trying to keep his breathing even and trying to listen and digest Stolas' words before he responds. He's been so reactionary with Stolas, so vicious, because he had to be.]
[Because he thought he had to be.]
[He draws in a careful breath and lifts his head, and seeing the way Stolas has drawn back into himself again makes his eyes get hot. He did that. He always did that--]
I'm not right for you, you know. I mean-- look at this. Look at us. All I've ever done is hurt you when it mattered, Stolas, how can..., Why would you want that?
[Stolas found himself sharply cutting in with a bit more umph then it meant to. Shrinking into himself more after his little outburst, he casts a remorseful look to the floor.]
I mean, before all this... before I placed my one-sided expectations on our situation... [Before he misread their relationship...] I meant what I said that you made me happy. You made me feel wanted, even if it was for a little bit. Made me forget about...
[The words get caught up in his throat as he vaguely gestures to himself. His scrawny twig ass.]
... all this. Seeing you take control of your own fate, it opened my eyes that maybe I could escape mine.
[He flinches, despite himself, wordlessly twisting his fingers together in a way that looks painful. It probably is, the dull throb of nearly pushing his joints the wrong direction keeping him at least somewhat grounded.]
[He sags backward slightly, not especially wanting distance but feeling suffocated, leading to him eventually slowly pushing his way to the other arm of the couch by digging his heels into the cushions below him. His tail winds around his legs, folded to his chest, twice.] I wanted that shit you were expecting, Stolas, I still do. I'm just-- shit at feelings, I cut and run when things get serious because I'm fucking scared. [It was a solid step up from being "too much imp to simp".]
[He hugs himself a little tighter, shaking his head.] I don't... I've been in control of so fucking little in my life, Stolas, I don't know what you think you're seeing.
[There was that cold chilly distance between them again. Why did he have to open his big beak and ruin everything? Just a moment ago they were shoulder to shoulder, talking about not getting on that train. But now it feels like they both had one foot on the platform. Maybe they were moving too fast.
Stolas hugs himself tighter.]
I don't know what you're not seeing. Your an imp, an imp with his own business. That's unheard of Blitz. How can you not acknowledge that?
[He pulls his knees up to his chest enough that it forces the air from his lungs a moment, wheezed out as he buries his face into them and stays that way, his tail unwinding enough so the end of it can lash in frustration, the spade smacking the couch cushions. He's locked inward, folded tight on himself, closed off and seething, until--]
[--in a burst of motion he stands up and paces the length of the couch, one way and then the other, arms wound tight around his ribs and tail whipping behind him in poorly contained stress.] All I ever do, Stolas, is leech off everyone around me. I'm-- fuck, I'm better than I used to be, but what good have I ever really done for you? Maybe-- maybe awakened your sexuality, that's great! But I'm like a fucking cancer. [His pacing slows, and with him not in motion he realizes he's so strung out he's shaking. In turn, he hugs his arms closer to himself.] I don't wanna ruin you anymore than I already have, y'know?
[The owl sat quietly as he listened to Blitzø tear himself down again. How could be not see what he saw? They were like two broken pieces of glass trying to pull themselves together. But the harder they held on, the more they cracked around the fault.
Stolas let's out a steady exhale, his tone leveling out.]
I feel your employees would beg to differ.. your daughter, too. [He leans back in his spot to stare at the ceiling.] Which is it, Blitz? You said you don't want me to get on that train, yet you're pushing me away with your next breath. Which is it, Blitz? You want me to stay or go?
[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.]
[The tension he held in his shoulders loosens, letting his hand fall into his lap. Again, the goetia loomed over to stare into his open palms.]
All I have ever wanted was to be wanted by someone. To feel... needed. Not just for my title or my powers. To want me for me. If you said you wanted me.... it would change everything.
[The reminder of the party stings. The reminder that Stolas went-- which was well within his right, even if he'd never been an "ex" because they'd never been together. Blitzø makes another ugly little aborted sound, slowly sitting down and hunching forward, collecting himself.]
I do, Stolas, I want-- the stupid shit, I want. [He smudges the heel of one hand over his eyes.] I want to watch movies with you, I want to sit and drink coffee with you, I want to go fucking grocery shopping with you. I want you in my life but I've fucked this up so badly what does saying it even mean? I don't want you to get on that train, not unless I'm on it with you-- I breathe easier when you're near me, I fucking sleep better with your stupid little hooting snores, you're warm and soft and sweet, trying to live without you has been like drinking shitty black coffee when I got used to the best creamer in Hell, okay? [He's folded forward so his forehead is against his knees, so all of this is kind of yelled at the floor, but at least he said it, maybe? Maybe Stolas would get it, now that he said it instead of trying to say it with actions. He'd never been good with words.]
[As Blitzø began his little heart to heart ramble of his, Stolas's head spun to stare at the little imp. He didn't know if the hellborn realized or not, but this was the nicest thing anyone had ever said to him. It was getting a little hard to breath with the swell of emotions that bubbled in his chest. He had never seen the imp so honest about what he felt, well... if he wasn't being yelled at anyways.
There wad still this dark voice that creeper along the edged of his mind. After all that's he's done, did he deserve to be happy? Choking that thought down for now, Stolas simply scoots a little in Blitzø’s direction to lean over to rest his shoulder on his.]
[Blitzø, for his part, just blubbers into his knees when Stolas doesn't just lean into him, but says what he does. He doesn't unstick his mouth enough to make any of it words, eventually giving up entirely and coughing a short series of hitched half-sobs before he sits up, smearing large hands over his face. It's graceless, but a similar gesture to the forced calm Stolas had taken on after sobbing into his lap at the party. It's hardly intentional, just-- yet another way they were too similar.]
[He withers sideways into Stolas' shoulder, hands still over his face.] Fuuuck I would like to exchange emotions for Not Emotions, thanks.
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Where was this side of him before?His whole heart-shaped face darkens with a deep flush as he continues to stare wide eyed at the imp. God, this silence has stretched on for too long. All four of his eyes fluttered, turning to head slightly to the side as a ghost of a smile haunts the corners of his beak.]
Well.... I'm not going anywhere.
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[He leans forward until his forehead is pressed against Stolas' side.] Good. Me either.
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Again, a moment of comfortable silence passed between them. This was not how he had pictured this Talk going. Maybe it was just his past experiences but he was fully braced for yelling and tears. Not that he was complaining about the outcome. Yet... there was still one burning issue that needed to be ironed out.]
So, Blitz.... About us... [He pauses.] Are you suggesting that you want to give it another try?
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[This was hardly all they needed to discuss, all they needed to lay out and explain, to understand about one another, but... Stolas shifting the topic drew Blitzø out of the near-doze he'd slipped into. He makes a curious grunt of sound and sits up again, blinking a few times and then scrunching his eyes closed to process the question.]
...don't get mad at me for saying this, but there wasn't an us to really speak of before. I'm-- that's on me, mostly. [His body coils again, back into the couch cushions with his tail wound around himself.] ...but. If you... [He exhales, curling his arms around his knees and ignoring the way his whole frame is shaking slightly.] If you want there to be an us. [He blinks at his knees, holding his breath, eventually mashing his face into them because he can't look at Stolas right now.] Then, yeah. "Us" sounds fucking great.
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[That ember of that warm fuzzy feeling was promptly snuffed out remembering 'them' from before. Right, they never were an us before. Reacting on instinct, he pulled back his hands to hug his arms. So... if him being kind to him wasn't because Blitzø wanted to be with him then... was he misreading their situation again?
Stolas's brows furrowed slightly as his grip tightens.]
Blitz.... I want to do this properly if we are to pursue this. I... may not be ready but.... I want to be.
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[Because he thought he had to be.]
[He draws in a careful breath and lifts his head, and seeing the way Stolas has drawn back into himself again makes his eyes get hot. He did that. He always did that--]
I'm not right for you, you know. I mean-- look at this. Look at us. All I've ever done is hurt you when it mattered, Stolas, how can..., Why would you want that?
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[Stolas found himself sharply cutting in with a bit more umph then it meant to. Shrinking into himself more after his little outburst, he casts a remorseful look to the floor.]
I mean, before all this... before I placed my one-sided expectations on our situation... [Before he misread their relationship...] I meant what I said that you made me happy. You made me feel wanted, even if it was for a little bit. Made me forget about...
[The words get caught up in his throat as he vaguely gestures to himself.
His scrawny twig ass.]... all this. Seeing you take control of your own fate, it opened my eyes that maybe I could escape mine.
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[He sags backward slightly, not especially wanting distance but feeling suffocated, leading to him eventually slowly pushing his way to the other arm of the couch by digging his heels into the cushions below him. His tail winds around his legs, folded to his chest, twice.] I wanted that shit you were expecting, Stolas, I still do. I'm just-- shit at feelings, I cut and run when things get serious because I'm fucking scared. [It was a solid step up from being "too much imp to simp".]
[He hugs himself a little tighter, shaking his head.] I don't... I've been in control of so fucking little in my life, Stolas, I don't know what you think you're seeing.
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Stolas hugs himself tighter.]
I don't know what you're not seeing. Your an imp, an imp with his own business. That's unheard of Blitz. How can you not acknowledge that?
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[He pulls his knees up to his chest enough that it forces the air from his lungs a moment, wheezed out as he buries his face into them and stays that way, his tail unwinding enough so the end of it can lash in frustration, the spade smacking the couch cushions. He's locked inward, folded tight on himself, closed off and seething, until--]
[--in a burst of motion he stands up and paces the length of the couch, one way and then the other, arms wound tight around his ribs and tail whipping behind him in poorly contained stress.] All I ever do, Stolas, is leech off everyone around me. I'm-- fuck, I'm better than I used to be, but what good have I ever really done for you? Maybe-- maybe awakened your sexuality, that's great! But I'm like a fucking cancer. [His pacing slows, and with him not in motion he realizes he's so strung out he's shaking. In turn, he hugs his arms closer to himself.] I don't wanna ruin you anymore than I already have, y'know?
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Stolas let's out a steady exhale, his tone leveling out.]
I feel your employees would beg to differ.. your daughter, too. [He leans back in his spot to stare at the ceiling.] Which is it, Blitz? You said you don't want me to get on that train, yet you're pushing me away with your next breath. Which is it, Blitz? You want me to stay or go?
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[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.]
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[Stolas said simply.]
It would make all the difference.
[The tension he held in his shoulders loosens, letting his hand fall into his lap. Again, the goetia loomed over to stare into his open palms.]
All I have ever wanted was to be wanted by someone. To feel... needed. Not just for my title or my powers. To want me for me. If you said you wanted me.... it would change everything.
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I do, Stolas, I want-- the stupid shit, I want. [He smudges the heel of one hand over his eyes.] I want to watch movies with you, I want to sit and drink coffee with you, I want to go fucking grocery shopping with you. I want you in my life but I've fucked this up so badly what does saying it even mean? I don't want you to get on that train, not unless I'm on it with you-- I breathe easier when you're near me, I fucking sleep better with your stupid little hooting snores, you're warm and soft and sweet, trying to live without you has been like drinking shitty black coffee when I got used to the best creamer in Hell, okay? [He's folded forward so his forehead is against his knees, so all of this is kind of yelled at the floor, but at least he said it, maybe? Maybe Stolas would get it, now that he said it instead of trying to say it with actions. He'd never been good with words.]
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There wad still this dark voice that creeper along the edged of his mind. After all that's he's done, did he deserve to be happy? Choking that thought down for now, Stolas simply scoots a little in Blitzø’s direction to lean over to rest his shoulder on his.]
Me too.... I feel the same way.
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[He withers sideways into Stolas' shoulder, hands still over his face.] Fuuuck I would like to exchange emotions for Not Emotions, thanks.