@relegious // continued from
That feigned worry. Oh, it’s mocking him. It’s mocking him because it knows, David knows, that it’s true. But there he is. Pretend shock, being coy.
Barty thinks it’s cute. It’s fucking cute. He hates that he thinks it’s cute. Godawful. They both know Barty is wrapped around his finger. It’s sad, really, that Barty is self-aware of it enough these days, past those delusions (or some of them) (there are still things he refuses to accept even now) (he can’t let things like truth interrupt what he and David have!). Self-aware, yet he takes David’s hand, and allows himself to be led down the spiral staircase. Oh, he’s an idiot, and he knows it, but he’ll be an idiot because that’s what David wants him to be, and Barty only ever wants to be what other people want him to be.
David, you could stomp him to a bloody mess, and he would say thank you. HE LOVES YOU. He loves you a lot. This time he isn’t going to let himself be thrown away, though, so you’re going to stay with him forever whether you like it or not.
“No.” Barty’s smile is split across his face. Can’t take his eyes off David. His hands dig into him like he’s Barty’s doll to pull close, grab at, feel him. Sometimes he just grabs David to be sure of him. That he’s real. That he’s there. That Barty is alive, and Barty wasn’t eaten, and Barty’s just as here as David is. Maybe that’s always been why he touches people so much. Scared they aren’t really there. That they’re going somewhere. That he’ll be left alone. Again. Like he always is. You can’t weasel away, David. And Barty’s insecure more than ever these days, so it’s going to plague his mind incessantly.
Barty’s nose digs into David’s hair, and he breathes him in deeply. Loves that smell. It’s purely David. Nothing else. “For it to help implies you need it.” And you don’t, you’ve already won, even if I’m a fool for walking straight into it. “So no. it doesn’t help, it’s already done. I am quite melted.”
