[location: Central, Transverto tram line or Speares - choose your own adventure!]
The past three weeks, Wyatt hasn't slept much at all. It's a known fact, broadcast loud and clear by the dark circles under his eyes for all to see. It's only now, roughly a week after Glitch's return from the dead, that he's well and truly succumbed to his own limitations. He's okay. He's alive and well, and real, and somewhere between putting on
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Letting you know all's well. If in-person confirmation would be more valid for you I'm fine with that. Besides, I think we still have party stuff to finalize. Just give me day/time/place/etc.
-G
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"Right, decorating: yellow, blue, red, purple, and green and...shinies. Glitter." He nods to himself. "DG'll help me get some comfy chairs down to the main hall and I'm sure there's some Extra moving company...we can set up s quiet room in the office."
At gifts, he tilted his head. "I...I suppose? I don't wanna pressure folks since they seem to do all the presents with this Christmas thing but we can still suggest it." Pause. "I did have some stuff to give out that wasn't slippers too so it works."
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Add to that a slight grunt, a shift where he stands. "Me too." A beat. "...I have no idea what to give Paul."
Between the letter thing and Glitch's-- return, it had seemingly slipped through the cracks of his broken heart. But now that it was right there, out in the open and they were doing this, he wanted to get it just right. No matter what came of his need to put his thoughts and feelings to paper.
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"Huh." He frowned up the the ceiling a bit, giving it some genuine thought, then shrugged. "I wouldn't worry about it too much, it'll come to you, I'm sure of it."
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"We need party favors. I'm not even sure what constitutes party favors."
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"Silly pointy hats and noisemakers, if I remember right from last year.I'll manage those too. Think you'll be able to get him into a silly hat?"
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Suddenly his palms were hot and damp again. "Maybe. If he's coming to the party."
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Fabulous question, that.
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Not that it mattered right now. "He didn't come to Dr. Magnus' party, and he didn't enjoy himself at the bonfire... And--"
To tell or not to tell when the only other time he told Glitch about Paul left him slack jawed and things awkward between them?
"I did something today that might tip the scale either way. I don't know yet."
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Yes, last time the subject had come up there'd been horrors, but then Glitch had been possibly at his most unstable and the result was messy and irrational. In the intervening months he'd gotten the hell over it and constructed a scenario in which two very independent and private people were engaged in an extremely private relationship and all was progressing well and normally toward some sort of fiercely independent and intensely private happily-ever-after-or-until-the-city-does-something-horrible. And none of it was any of his godsdamned business and that was totally okay.
The fact that Glitch chose to dismiss the variable of exactly how fundamentally screwed up the parties involved are shows the depths of his optimism. So yes: concerned confusion ( ... )
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He didn't have a clue how to explain the why, and ended up thumbing the edge of the screwed on lid of his thermo cup. He could feel his ears starting to burn. He'd learned the hard way to value privacy and secrecy, but this went beyond that. This tapped right into his own underlying fears of commitment - or not commitment as such, but the very real risk of losing someone once they'd gotten too close and he'd gotten too attached and started taking them (him) for granted.
"I, uh," he started, cleared his throat almost immediately after. "I haven't-- We don't really talk about..." Vague gesture goes here, to indicate the intangible thing between him and Paul ( ... )
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"And I'm guessing this letter was...some sort of statement of emotional intent?" He sat down carefully and sipped his coffee, nonchalant as possible. On the one hand he was hoping to help his friend, on the other he knew the wrong word would immediately slam more doors shut and this was really a subject none of them talked about, like...
What was that line from a few movie nights ago in DG's room? Brawl Meeting's first law is that no one discusses Brawl Meeting. Apparently this was a significant part of Otherside pop culture and he'd committed it to memory on the walk back to his own room and focus, headcase.
"--sorry, I'm presuming. I just hope it goes well for you, for both of you."
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He sat down, cup resting on one knee, his hat on the other, and gave Glitch's query a stiff nod. Statement of emotional intent, yeah, that sure covers it.
"Three pages." This was followed swiftly by a slightly incredulous groan, and his left hand went from his hat to rub at his brow. He felt slightly dizzy again.
"I can't believe I wrote three whole pages."
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"Other than being a little dazzled that you managed to come up with so many words--" Because Cain's taciturn-ness has to be remarked upon. "--I'm...not that surprised. You don't do things halfway."
Not with the heart, not with anything that mattered. And if he needed a well-timed (and metaphorical) optimisic kick in the pants, well, that was Glitch's job.
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The second half earned him a slightly softer expression, and again - credit, Glitch.
"Rationally, I know I'm working myself up. I know it's nerves. But knowing doesn't help the palpitations." And come to think of it, neither is coffee, which he sets down beside his chair.
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He looked up to the rafters with a sigh, then shook his head dismissively.
"Brains," he concluded, "Are overrated."
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