shushharley:
… .
his questions all came so very fast, she had little time to process and, much less, answer before the next one arose. but even if she had, could she have ? it was not that the answers didn’t exist, rather that yet another person – another person she cared for, no matter how strange their dynamic was in comparison to so many others – had learned of her affair. hardly able to catch a thought, the idea of catching an answer to one of his many questions was more than far-fetched. why had angel let it all free when she’d been making good on her end ? he had nothing to gain anymore. had it been angel ? who else could it have been ?
as far as she could remember, she had kept it well under wraps. it was easy enough to do when there were no direct questions regarding it. there was no truth to tell if no one asked. there were no lies to tell if no one asked. and yet, it had slipped. and yet, questions she could not answer – not for her own protection, rather for either a lack of processing or a lack of introspection – had now been thrown her way twice. who else knew ? a selfish thought, yes, but nothing else was quite sticking.
it was not until his final sentiment that she was actually able to conjure up and articulate a thought – a question, and a rather good one ! a rather automatic one ! “ what the hell are you talking about ? ” that could certainly be misconstrued. lying further about her affair with vidal would get her nowhere, oh how she knew that ! no, no, after a second’s thought – or, rather, an instinct, because thinking was off the table at the moment, she added, with genuine curiosity and perhaps a side of worry! , “ what does any of this have to do with your conviction ? ”
*
it was true, he was disorganised. he was chaotic. sometimes he was absolutely out of his mind and right in the path of trouble headed his way. not much was expected of them but this was just too far for even him. he looked directly at her when he addressed her now, his green eyes staring into eyes that resembled his own but didn’t feel familiar anymore. he didn’t even answer her question directly. the disappointment welled in his eyes and overcame his body in a way that he had never felt before in his life.
god, they had always been fuck ups -- there had been parts of them that slotted together like a really cheap jigsaw someone got in secret santa as a duff gift, there were parts of them that made sense but now he saw none of them.
“i just don’t know you right now ‘cause when i saw them pictures i didn’t see my sister, i saw some freaky stranger who didn’t care who she was hurting-” he spluttered, his voice hoarse and breaking. he wanted to understand how she could have sex with that creature, that monter who had made his children’s life misery. every time he walked through that door he felt like he was on broken glass but it was just broken spirits. “and harley, fucking hell, i never thought you were like that. you and me, we make mistakes, we fuck up so much but to do that... to know how twisted he must be, to know he drove my best friend into wanting to kill so many parts of himself over and over. to know how he locked them up in this haunted house, even without ghosts, ghouls and dead kids. wasn’t that enough? is there something so wrong with you and me that you had to take it that step further? what could he have possibly done to warp your mind into sleeping with him? i’ve been racking my brain the entire time i was locked up trying to come up with some excuse because i fucking love you but the truth is, there isn’t one, is there? is this just who you are?”
















