No. Near... Near could never... he wasn't... he couldn't... A's mind sputtered, and he wondered if one could truely choke, suffocate on air. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He was trapped in his head, he was dreaming, he was in some kind of demented... something, the mansion was pulling tricks on him, this wasn't Near, Near was pulling tricks on him, Near was trying to hurt him, Near was... real? Telling the truth?
His thoughts came to a grinding halt as he looked toward the boy in front of him. A headache.
A fucking headache.
Caring for someone is complicated.
A fucking headache. Why? Why did he... why did he go through all this shit that A put him through then? When A ran off with B, when A... when he did all of those things, why? Why would Near stay like that?
It's a long moment, before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is soft and small.
...oh.
He takes a small step closer, unsure as to why he's doing it, but he doesn't want this to end and what the hell is happening to him?
Oh.
I... I didn't--I don't... I--you... God, this night has been too much. His mind is stretched to the breaking point, almost unable to function like this. B..but he has to know, he has to see, because now... he doesn't even know why he's hoping, why he's speaking... why he's even doing this, because it was crazy, Near was crazy, he was crazy, it was all just a big steaming pile of insanity, and he couldn't help but to want it.
His eyes fell to the floor and he nodded, moving back a step or two, before swallowing hard. Not anymore. Near was right. A... he didn't know what to do now.
Oh.
Right.
You're right, I should just.
Head there now, I mean I don't--want to be a bother or. Or anything. Thank you for--for offering me a place for the night though. But I should....
A is still positively downcast. He never thought that Near would... would ever say anything like that. And now that he had, and actually given A something--something to hope for... and then just yanking it away. Making A feel wrong, inappropriate, dirty for thinking about that at all. For having hope. It was... stupid of him. To even hope for this in the first place. To find himself enamored by something so... inappropriate.
He nods numbly towards Near, now feeling bad for letting his feelings fuck this whole thing up because Near was ready to just get over this, but A was not.
No, it's... it's not you... at all. I just.
The words finally just come spilling out, faster than he can ever hope to stop them.
Damnit, Near! I don't--don't know what to think, don't know what to do. I tried to kill myself before I got here--I fully intended on going through with it the second time, okay? I got here and was promptly manipulated and lied to and hurt my someone I thought was my friend. He turns suddenly, unable to even face Near anymore pressing his forehead into the cool wood of the door. I went through Hell and back in these stupid rooms, this whole fucking place has been toying with me and dangling a knife on a string, asking me if I want to use it again. I find out that B--I trusted him!--is going to kill me!
His voice softens as he slowly, painfully continues, each word hurting him more than the last, but he needs to say it because he's just bottled it up since he's met the other boy, and it's all coming out now. And you--you... I want to be your friend so desperately because I like to be around you, I want to be around you, to be--to be with you--but you keep pushing me away like you're scared of me, and I... I... I want--I want you to be attracted to me, okay? I... I'm... horribly... terribly... attracted to you.... a-and then you tell me these things that make me want... I don't even know, but then you say that it's inappropriate, and just pull away again.
Tell me, N-Near--what do you expect me to do? Honestly?
*Near is frozen solid, tension vibrating through him, like a rope a split second away from snapping. He has no idea what to do or say, or what course of action would be optimal in this circumstance.*
I have no way to anticipate what action you will take. This conversation is outside of my realm of experience. *Flat, terrified, it could be mistaken for 'cold,' if A hadn't already seen him frightened, probably.*
A's managed to pull enough of himself together to know that he's done something horribly wrong. To know that he's going to regret saying that.
The words, if anything, make him angry. He hated that calm right now. That stupid, flat, cold calm. Stupid words that fall and shatter to the floor like the nothingness that they represent.
He scrapes enough dignity to look back just one more time before he figures that he'll just leave and hope to god he runs into a B so his job wouldn't be so hard. No... maybe that was a little harsh. But still. Only then does it really hit him. Near isn't being cold... isn't being toneless, blank. He's...
A blinks for a moment, staring towards the blind boy, biting his lower lip so hard that he's afraid that he'll bleed. Near... scared...?
I'm sorry.
He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself as if he could keep his thoughts contained with sheer self-loathing.
I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I should... I really should, um. I'm sorry. His voice breaks.
He shakes his head somewhat, finally turning to that he could stop talking to the door. His heart is thudding in his chest and he hates this, hates this, hates himself for making this.
It... it would have come out sooner or later... I--I guess.
He blinks for a moment at the odd vow, before slowly nodding, still ready to bolt if anything else happened. He hated this, it made him uncomfortable, made his skin crawl. Swallowing hard, he cuffs his shoe on the floor and shrugs.
I... I guess.
So, then... that... that's it, then. He swallows hard, feeling as if he were just killing himself all over again. But if... if Near didn't want to, then he couldn't push it. A had enough respect for the other boy than to do that.
A looks almost hurt at the words, before blinking somewhat and forcing himself to get over it. Of course. He was in shock. Still. In shock. That was the perfect, happy ticket out of this awkward situation. Claim that and they could put this off until much, much later. As in, never. But that wasn't really what A wanted, now was it?
Right. I'm too mentally unstable. If he says it in a negative tone, he doesn't mean to, but he's horribly hurt and he doesn't understand a thing about what's going on.
So... I guess I should go. I don't think... I'm not sure if it would be too wise to stay here for the night...
I didn't mean that. *Curling in on himself, a little tighter. It's all his fault and he's making it worse. Because worst of all; it's partially true. A is not entirely well, and Near cannot pretend otherwise.*
His hand's on the doorknob and he's going to leave, he really is. But... the apology. It sounds so wrong. He has nothing to apologize for. Near is just... complicated.
A takes a deep breath and pulls away from the door for the second time, slowly moving towards the other boy, unsure if sitting on the bed would be awkward or not, so he simply stands near him for the moment.
It's not your fault. I'm... irrational.
But look, I...
I don't want you to... to think that this is anyone's fault but mine. I lost control, I... I made this worse. Please, Near... don't apologize to me.
It is my fault, for losing control. You were seeing someone else. There and then, I should have been able to stop. I should have when I heard you and Light. I should have better control over myself, *he'll never be enough if he can't control himself.*
And again.
And is stunned into a long silence.
No. Near... Near could never... he wasn't... he couldn't... A's mind sputtered, and he wondered if one could truely choke, suffocate on air. This wasn't happening. This couldn't be happening. He was trapped in his head, he was dreaming, he was in some kind of demented... something, the mansion was pulling tricks on him, this wasn't Near, Near was pulling tricks on him, Near was trying to hurt him, Near was... real? Telling the truth?
His thoughts came to a grinding halt as he looked toward the boy in front of him. A headache.
A fucking headache.
Caring for someone is complicated.
A fucking headache. Why? Why did he... why did he go through all this shit that A put him through then? When A ran off with B, when A... when he did all of those things, why? Why would Near stay like that?
It's a long moment, before he speaks, and when he does, his voice is soft and small.
...oh.
He takes a small step closer, unsure as to why he's doing it, but he doesn't want this to end and what the hell is happening to him?
Oh.
I... I didn't--I don't... I--you... God, this night has been too much. His mind is stretched to the breaking point, almost unable to function like this. B..but he has to know, he has to see, because now... he doesn't even know why he's hoping, why he's speaking... why he's even doing this, because it was crazy, Near was crazy, he was crazy, it was all just a big steaming pile of insanity, and he couldn't help but to want it.
...'found'..? Like... n...not anymore...?
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Oh.
Right.
You're right, I should just.
Head there now, I mean I don't--want to be a bother or. Or anything. Thank you for--for offering me a place for the night though. But I should....
go.
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I didn't mean to ruin this. I just thought it wouldn't be fair to not tell you about something affecting my behaviour towards you.
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He nods numbly towards Near, now feeling bad for letting his feelings fuck this whole thing up because Near was ready to just get over this, but A was not.
No, it's... it's not you... at all. I just.
The words finally just come spilling out, faster than he can ever hope to stop them.
Damnit, Near! I don't--don't know what to think, don't know what to do. I tried to kill myself before I got here--I fully intended on going through with it the second time, okay? I got here and was promptly manipulated and lied to and hurt my someone I thought was my friend. He turns suddenly, unable to even face Near anymore pressing his forehead into the cool wood of the door. I went through Hell and back in these stupid rooms, this whole fucking place has been toying with me and dangling a knife on a string, asking me if I want to use it again. I find out that B--I trusted him!--is going to kill me!
His voice softens as he slowly, painfully continues, each word hurting him more than the last, but he needs to say it because he's just bottled it up since he's met the other boy, and it's all coming out now. And you--you... I want to be your friend so desperately because I like to be around you, I want to be around you, to be--to be with you--but you keep pushing me away like you're scared of me, and I... I... I want--I want you to be attracted to me, okay? I... I'm... horribly... terribly... attracted to you.... a-and then you tell me these things that make me want... I don't even know, but then you say that it's inappropriate, and just pull away again.
Tell me, N-Near--what do you expect me to do? Honestly?
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I have no way to anticipate what action you will take. This conversation is outside of my realm of experience. *Flat, terrified, it could be mistaken for 'cold,' if A hadn't already seen him frightened, probably.*
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The words, if anything, make him angry. He hated that calm right now. That stupid, flat, cold calm. Stupid words that fall and shatter to the floor like the nothingness that they represent.
He scrapes enough dignity to look back just one more time before he figures that he'll just leave and hope to god he runs into a B so his job wouldn't be so hard. No... maybe that was a little harsh. But still. Only then does it really hit him. Near isn't being cold... isn't being toneless, blank. He's...
A blinks for a moment, staring towards the blind boy, biting his lower lip so hard that he's afraid that he'll bleed. Near... scared...?
I'm sorry.
He shakes his head, wrapping his arms around himself as if he could keep his thoughts contained with sheer self-loathing.
I shouldn't have said that. I'm sorry. I should... I really should, um. I'm sorry. His voice breaks.
So sorry...
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*The same certainty, a little more emotion.*
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He shakes his head somewhat, finally turning to that he could stop talking to the door. His heart is thudding in his chest and he hates this, hates this, hates himself for making this.
It... it would have come out sooner or later... I--I guess.
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I'm never doing it again. Liking anyone. Even when it's not unrequited, it's excruciating. It feels like there is no advantage, either way.
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I... I guess.
So, then... that... that's it, then. He swallows hard, feeling as if he were just killing himself all over again. But if... if Near didn't want to, then he couldn't push it. A had enough respect for the other boy than to do that.
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B. Suicide. Etcetera.
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Right. I'm too mentally unstable. If he says it in a negative tone, he doesn't mean to, but he's horribly hurt and he doesn't understand a thing about what's going on.
So... I guess I should go. I don't think... I'm not sure if it would be too wise to stay here for the night...
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I'm sorry.
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A takes a deep breath and pulls away from the door for the second time, slowly moving towards the other boy, unsure if sitting on the bed would be awkward or not, so he simply stands near him for the moment.
It's not your fault. I'm... irrational.
But look, I...
I don't want you to... to think that this is anyone's fault but mine. I lost control, I... I made this worse. Please, Near... don't apologize to me.
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I'm not Mello.
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