@patronedloss asked: “ does hurting me make you feel good or something ? ”
phrases that really hit you where it hurts. | accepting.
FINLEY DID NOT WANT to do this right now. he did not want to do this right now, or at all – if he was being honest. but was he ever? was he ever being honest? with all the years that passed, he wasn’t sure if even he could tell who he really was underneath all the layers he had built up. maybe this was who he really was. maybe underneath everything was the same man from the first layer. a lying piece of shit who honestly did not care about anyone. he’d like that. he’d like not to care. he tried so fucking hard not to care. it was a well practice act and he still missed the steps. he tripped and ended up CARING about someone.
and that was when the true mess happened.
SAMUEL WAS TIPPING DANGEROUSLY into that category. someone he cared about. someone he currently cared about. they were two cards in the same deck, same suit but of different weights. finley was a jack. samuel was an ace. he felt like he knew him too deeply when he looked at him. sometimes he felt like same saw through him and it terrified him, like most things did when they got too real. finley hated reality. he hated the truth of it. it was so much easier without feelings, without emotions. it was so much easier when you could walk out a door when someone said something too deep.
SO, WHY COULDN’T HE walk out the door at the moment? why was he still standing there? it was because his ace was talking to him, because he looked hurt. he looked like he was hurting from what finley had said. and he was. of course he was. he was angry, he had a right to be. but so was finley. he was angry because sam was digging past his armor with that quip. maybe he didn’t even know it.
“is that what you think?” the words were not what he meant to come out. he meant to bark back at him, to accept the words and paint himself as the villain of the story. his hands shook. sam brought out bad habits in him. he wanted a cigarette. he wanted to leave. his head was a mess of two feelings, three if you counted the honest truth. “that this makes me feel good? it doesn’t make me feel anything, sam, but like shit. you think you’re the only one hurting here?”
samuel drake had met many people over his time, people like him, people like fin. scoundrels, liars, thieves, the worst that mankind had to offer. he was one of them, lowest of the low, willing to do whatever it took to get what he wanted, to achieve a goal, what have you. his type were common criminals, and besides nathan, he’d never found anyone he’d trust with his life. even rafe had ended in tragedy. everything in his life normally fell apart at the seams, especially something like being intimate with other people, anything he could consider akin to a relationship. the two people he’d loved outside of his brother hated him now -- well, he was sure crystal did, at least. rafe was gone, died cursing the drake name.
but here he stood, face to face with someone of his own breed yet again, trying to make sense where there was none. sam was much like his brother in the respects of his emotions; he tended to wear them on his sleeve, or at least the negative ones. he wasn’t good at bottling things up. staring fin down from across the room, all he could feel was his heart hammering in the hollow of his chest, swallowing hard around the piece in his throat.
the fact was that he cared. he hated himself for it, but he cared. he hadn’t figured out why, or even when it had started, but there was an ache in his chest that came about whenever fin left, or didn’t text, didn’t call -- it scared him to lose the other man. it shouldn’t. but it did. hands rested on his hips, a rather exhausted sigh passing his lips. neither of them were good at this, this type of thing was meant for normal people. not their type.
“ then why don’t you tell me what to think , fin ? ” he finally sighs out; he wasn’t good at feeling things, especially not for someone like him. “ i have no idea what to feel or what to think -- i’m glad you can read other people like a book but i’m having a rough time with you . you’re real good at making people feel worthless . ” he can feel that familiar sensation in his guts, the urge to leave, the run from the situation and pretend that this had never happened. he was kidding himself, however, thinking for even a moment that he would forget finley puckett. “ why should i think i’m any different to you ? ”
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