[It's a cycle, with friends and romances. He finds people, he gets close, and then he gets pushed away. Or he pulls himself away. Or someone dies, or almost dies, from violence or circumstance or because that's just what people do, sometimes.
Everything ends. Something always starts again, eventually, but it makes being in the middle of it an existential rollercoaster. Because what else is he supposed to do? Resign to being eternally miserable?
All this goes through his head while he's looking at her in the wake of the kiss, pondering the stained-glass blue of her eyes while eating a couple of fries. She's so beautiful.]
It's just never worked out, me livin' with people. [There it is. He'd promised her once that he'd let her see the truth about himself. Against all his expectations, it hasn't driven her off yet.] Sooner or later, that turns out t'be the first nail in the coffin. And I never thought the fairies would want us out of the castle.
[All of a sudden, the cosmic dissociation provided by the 'shrooms starts working to his advantage. He can sit with the reality of the choice in sharp, brutal terms.] I could say no. And that'd be a let-down for ya. I'd have let ya down. I can see that. Or — I could say yes.
[And... wait, why is that supposed to be a bad thing again? He could swear he had it a second ago. It's slipping away.
Oh. Right.]
Sheila... she took an overdose and almost died. Stacy got scared. Then bloody Derek tells me to pack up me shite and go...
[Should he be telling her this? Fuck. It feels like a confession, the glassy sheen on the world puts him very much in mind of a church, but maybe she is going to be his savior. It wouldn't be the first time he's thought so.
His hand squeezes hers back, hard.]
I just don't wanna skip to the part where it all gets messed up. [Like he'd said in his dream, an echo of another time he'd tried to make it work living with someone — think I'll get it right, this time?]
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Everything ends. Something always starts again, eventually, but it makes being in the middle of it an existential rollercoaster. Because what else is he supposed to do? Resign to being eternally miserable?
All this goes through his head while he's looking at her in the wake of the kiss, pondering the stained-glass blue of her eyes while eating a couple of fries. She's so beautiful.]
It's just never worked out, me livin' with people. [There it is. He'd promised her once that he'd let her see the truth about himself. Against all his expectations, it hasn't driven her off yet.] Sooner or later, that turns out t'be the first nail in the coffin. And I never thought the fairies would want us out of the castle.
[All of a sudden, the cosmic dissociation provided by the 'shrooms starts working to his advantage. He can sit with the reality of the choice in sharp, brutal terms.] I could say no. And that'd be a let-down for ya. I'd have let ya down. I can see that. Or — I could say yes.
[And... wait, why is that supposed to be a bad thing again? He could swear he had it a second ago. It's slipping away.
Oh. Right.]
Sheila... she took an overdose and almost died. Stacy got scared. Then bloody Derek tells me to pack up me shite and go...
[Should he be telling her this? Fuck. It feels like a confession, the glassy sheen on the world puts him very much in mind of a church, but maybe she is going to be his savior. It wouldn't be the first time he's thought so.
His hand squeezes hers back, hard.]
I just don't wanna skip to the part where it all gets messed up. [Like he'd said in his dream, an echo of another time he'd tried to make it work living with someone — think I'll get it right, this time?]