[He's glad she doesn't ask him to define what it is that hurts precisely. It feels like a tangled mass, like if he tied to tease out something between fucking up on the network and throwing a guy out a window and leaving his mom with tens of thousands of dollars in medical bills for burn treatment and all this unresolved grief, like if he goes in there it'll grab him by the ankles and suck him under.
All his life he's shuffled people into place to fill the black hole inside him, the empty gravity to orbit around, indulged a reflex straddling the worlds of please help me, please fix me and please let me adore you, please let me lay myself at your feet.
Why not her? Why not her or Hiccup or Trance or any of the other people here? Why not fix other people like stars to reorient the galaxy around? Why not cast her as a sun? He realizes he barely knows her beyond the surface, has jotted in her features with conjecture and theories instead of fact, but that doesn't matter. That just means he has work to do.]
Thanks. [He takes her hand back; the gesture is needy. Revan's suspicion is correct, and the absence of friendly touch hurts, because Dixon comes from a family of affectionate people, huggers and shoulder-patters and people who rest on each other's arms, and he's starved of it.] I just figure at the speed I'm going soon I won't have nobody to ask help from.
no subject
All his life he's shuffled people into place to fill the black hole inside him, the empty gravity to orbit around, indulged a reflex straddling the worlds of please help me, please fix me and please let me adore you, please let me lay myself at your feet.
Why not her? Why not her or Hiccup or Trance or any of the other people here? Why not fix other people like stars to reorient the galaxy around? Why not cast her as a sun? He realizes he barely knows her beyond the surface, has jotted in her features with conjecture and theories instead of fact, but that doesn't matter. That just means he has work to do.]
Thanks. [He takes her hand back; the gesture is needy. Revan's suspicion is correct, and the absence of friendly touch hurts, because Dixon comes from a family of affectionate people, huggers and shoulder-patters and people who rest on each other's arms, and he's starved of it.] I just figure at the speed I'm going soon I won't have nobody to ask help from.