Pizza and Apologies
how-poetic:
Yeah, you’re damn right I don’t.” He sighed, closing his eyes as though blocking out the sight of his friend could make him disappear. The kid had come to apologize, of course, but McCoy could not drag himself far enough out of his black mood to appreciate that fact. Still, pizza was pizza, and the fact that Jim had brought something meant that he truly did want to talk.
Deciding he could not in any good conscience turn Kirk away the one time he wanted a constructive conversation, the doctor slumped back in his chair. “Sit down and stay there,” he growled, waving at a nearby chair.
Breathing in relief, Jim ignores the seat and instead grabs two plates from McCoy's kitchenette. That's when he takes his seat, opening the pizza box and offering his friend a plate. "I know pizza won't make up for what I said but...I really am sorry. It wasn't any of my right to get mad at you...and I had no right being so cruel with my words." Jim doesn't apologize for anything, ever. But this? He had to make an exception this time. Especially since he honestly was sorry for being cruel. He'd let his jealousy get the best of him, and it wasn't worth losing McCoy over. Not even slightly worth it.












