I know you don't wanna turn me into your puppet
His tongue is almost too thick to speak, throat closing up and eyes burning. He wants to yell, or cry, but that's not the mature thing to do. "You're allowed to be afraid, you're not allowed to keep things from me because you think I'll leave. That's why it's called trust, and that's why it's hard." But he'd thought they had no issues there, having always been open and honest himself. He blinks hard, trying not to follow her swiftly down the path of crying, trying to be the rock that neither of them can seem to be right now.
Her words are an urgent, anxious waterfall that sweeps him up and drowns everything else out in a white haze of noise. He tries to follow along and keep his head, but he can't figure out what she wants, or where to go next with this. With them. And it's clear she doesn't know either, so what now?
"If it was only true at the time then maybe it's different now," he mutters through a thick, wet voice. "Maybe - maybe we have to reconsider it." It's hard to say 'we' and it shouldn't be, and he hates that it is. She may have reassured him that no infidelity had occurred and that she would always choose him, but all the rest has him so rattled he doesn't know which way is up. "But even if we do reconsider it, it sounds like maybe he's upset with you if your spar went so south. You having feelings for him might not matter because it might not change anything." And what then? Does Jude just wait for those feelings in her heart to die? Aware they exist but unable to do anything about them, and with the recipient of those affections equally unwilling to reciprocate?
It's as close to logical as he can manage to be, though his chest threatens to cave in on itself for how he refuses to give the emotions tangled up in there an outlet. But he doesn't need to feel things, he needs to fix them.
Her words are an urgent, anxious waterfall that sweeps him up and drowns everything else out in a white haze of noise. He tries to follow along and keep his head, but he can't figure out what she wants, or where to go next with this. With them. And it's clear she doesn't know either, so what now?
"If it was only true at the time then maybe it's different now," he mutters through a thick, wet voice. "Maybe - maybe we have to reconsider it." It's hard to say 'we' and it shouldn't be, and he hates that it is. She may have reassured him that no infidelity had occurred and that she would always choose him, but all the rest has him so rattled he doesn't know which way is up. "But even if we do reconsider it, it sounds like maybe he's upset with you if your spar went so south. You having feelings for him might not matter because it might not change anything." And what then? Does Jude just wait for those feelings in her heart to die? Aware they exist but unable to do anything about them, and with the recipient of those affections equally unwilling to reciprocate?
It's as close to logical as he can manage to be, though his chest threatens to cave in on itself for how he refuses to give the emotions tangled up in there an outlet. But he doesn't need to feel things, he needs to fix them.
But what if I just always dance around on your string?
Jude
