I was a heavy heart to carry

[m_pinocchio]

Sometimes the thought of moving forward makes him hopeful. More often it makes him want to panic. It feels like actual, literal motion, like something that takes exactly that amount of effort and coordination and twice the faith. Sometimes he doesn't even believe that "forward" exists, not for him. It exists for people with jobs and careers and

Comments

[little_moons]

"Because it's your fuckin' house," I scoff, sitting in the sagging armchair by the couch and putting on my own shoes, keys in hand and ready to fucking go.

He can hide in the fucking cave forever, like he's some kind of goddamn troll, but it's fucking stupid and weird, and maybe I don't understand how fucked up this whole thing is for him, and how fuckin' terrifying it must be to go out there into the world, but just feeding into all this bullshit isn't gonna help.

"And if you send me on my own, you never know what I might come back with. I mean, I think this room'd look really awesome in a really bright pink."

[m_pinocchio]

"Yeah, you'd have to look at it too," he says, scowling up at Neil--and perfectly aware that doing so makes the scars look more pronounced. "You'd have to look at more of it. Don't you fucking threaten me."

He kicks out with his good foot, feeling for all the world like a sulky two-year-old, which makes him even angrier. Dammit, he doesn't want to go out there. A couple of times a week to the physical therapist is one thing; this somehow feels like... more. More people, more real, more normal life.

And normal life is a place where he just doesn't belong anymore.

[little_moons]

"Don't fuckin' make me threaten you," I mutter, kicking back at him, the toe of my shoe colliding with his with a dull, rubber on rubber thud.

"Seriously, man. It's your fuckin' apartment. I feel weird pickin' out your fuckin' paint."

[m_pinocchio]

"Oh, yeah, and walking out that door feels perfectly fine to me," he shoots back, glaring and icy before looking away again. Why don't you understand this? Why can't you see how hard this is?

"'sides," he adds, still looking stubbornly away. "You practically fucking live here half the time anyway."