[Private Entry]
He warned me about this once. It strikes me as pretty damned idiotic that I didn't take him seriously. I should have always taken him seriously - it would have saved a lot of upset. His exact words, in between a speech about how God enjoys to kill and how I would too when I got around to it, were; "No one will ever be safe around you, Will." I ignored him then. Now I'm starting to believe him.
A heart through the mail. A letter.
He must have planned it well, the heart addressed to George - he knew I'd make him open that first. Packages always make me curious. The letter didn't give many hints. He saw Paris, or at least, someone did and informed him in detail. It sounded distant, the language he used. Maybe I'm just grapsing for something to tell me that he wasn't there, that we've got that happy memory untainted.
"It's a sick feeling," Molly said once. She was right. Knowing he's out there, knowing that all he has to do is break a lock and appear when we're sleeping ... it turns my insides cold. I threw up, after the phonecall. Bet that made George feel better, I can be a right asshole when I want to be. But it was just suddenly there, choking me. The last time I threw up over anything like this was when I woke up in hospital to the realisation that I'd been fucking a murderer. A serial killer. Normal isn't good enough for Will Graham.
Couple of months ago, I would have said that I was afraid I couldn't get past George cheating. Now I'm afraid that my past is going to rip us apart. Quite literally.
I haven't had a chance to process how I feel about Jack and George knocking fuck out of each other in the living room. That was a really nice fucking cabinet. It was a wedding present and the only decent thing I got out of that divorce. I liked it, dammit. The two of them just can't set things aside and learn to let go. It drives me up the fucking wall. Jack needs to back off ... but he's going to be around more often now.
Kurt came. I don't even know how I feel about Kurt in the first place, never mind dragging him into all this. But I swore to George - to let Kurt always be there just in case. He can't be though, not every second of every day. I don't want him to be. It's a personality clash, I think. Don't get me wrong. He's an angel, really. I do have a soft spot for him. The sex is beyond amazing. I'm not even having issues about who gets the attention from George. But it can't last forever.
I can't keep my hands of off George. I don't know whether it's reassuring myself that he's still there or whether it's the desperation leaking out in other ways. He looks so impossibly sad at the end of it. Like ... there's a depth in his eyes I hate seeing. He's not like that.
If Hannibal doesn't kill me ... the thought of losing him might.
A heart through the mail. A letter.
He must have planned it well, the heart addressed to George - he knew I'd make him open that first. Packages always make me curious. The letter didn't give many hints. He saw Paris, or at least, someone did and informed him in detail. It sounded distant, the language he used. Maybe I'm just grapsing for something to tell me that he wasn't there, that we've got that happy memory untainted.
"It's a sick feeling," Molly said once. She was right. Knowing he's out there, knowing that all he has to do is break a lock and appear when we're sleeping ... it turns my insides cold. I threw up, after the phonecall. Bet that made George feel better, I can be a right asshole when I want to be. But it was just suddenly there, choking me. The last time I threw up over anything like this was when I woke up in hospital to the realisation that I'd been fucking a murderer. A serial killer. Normal isn't good enough for Will Graham.
Couple of months ago, I would have said that I was afraid I couldn't get past George cheating. Now I'm afraid that my past is going to rip us apart. Quite literally.
I haven't had a chance to process how I feel about Jack and George knocking fuck out of each other in the living room. That was a really nice fucking cabinet. It was a wedding present and the only decent thing I got out of that divorce. I liked it, dammit. The two of them just can't set things aside and learn to let go. It drives me up the fucking wall. Jack needs to back off ... but he's going to be around more often now.
Kurt came. I don't even know how I feel about Kurt in the first place, never mind dragging him into all this. But I swore to George - to let Kurt always be there just in case. He can't be though, not every second of every day. I don't want him to be. It's a personality clash, I think. Don't get me wrong. He's an angel, really. I do have a soft spot for him. The sex is beyond amazing. I'm not even having issues about who gets the attention from George. But it can't last forever.
I can't keep my hands of off George. I don't know whether it's reassuring myself that he's still there or whether it's the desperation leaking out in other ways. He looks so impossibly sad at the end of it. Like ... there's a depth in his eyes I hate seeing. He's not like that.
If Hannibal doesn't kill me ... the thought of losing him might.