Dorian. I remember that, some bitterness to the nightnow but I remember. "Not angry with you over that," I say, lifting my chin a little. "That was mine." Not disputing that, whatever my reasons, and there's a bloody tangle of them.
"I won't disagree that I thought it the right thing, setting things aside so we could have the relationship I thought we both wanted--"
Wait.
What?
And he's carrying on blithe, "If you didn't want it, I wish I'd realized it then. I wouldn't have encouraged it otherwise."
"If you thought it was a relationship he was after, didn't hear it from you during the week and a half after that night that he was staying clear of us," I say dry. "No. You were worrying after him threeday after it happened. You telling me that even then you thought I was after taking up with him? Did you take my hating what the Shuck and Verdandi did to him more'n I hated what he did to me to be bloody invitation on my part?"
Back again to matter of Dorian, and his nature--could swear he's part spoilt cat, really. "There are none that fear me, love, least of all, him. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," and the look of irritation I shoot Iago fades when I see he means it. It's Dorian Gray; he needs to dose himself to say he'd be wounded by being set aside and even then can't bring himself t'say any ways most other would understand, and Iago thinks there's no fear there? You could sneak up on the man and cry household and he'd vanish for another month.
"As for the louse, I didn't say it was fine or right, not now and not when it happened. I've told him so as well. Today even," and fine the words, but in the moment as it happened...
"You were fine with it then," I say quiet. "Less he forced you onto himself, and you never told me if he did." It's starting to rain, a little. Streets are emptying out some, between that and the time and us moving east.
"Love, I'm confused," he says. "You tell me you love me but we can't live together? I disagree," and then on to "You're not helping me by pushing me away." Yes, well, bloody sorry it had t'come t'this as the only way to even begin to give him less chance to tear himself up, but I'm still not seeing it as a wrong. "Is it helping you any?"
"It's leaving me surer you won't tear yourself up over some whim you imagine I have," I say quiet, "or ignore what I actually do mind. That's some help t'me; I'm considering it help t'you. And I don't trust you, as I used to. Easier to weight that out calm, when I'm alone."
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Date: 2012-02-28 01:35 am (UTC)"I won't disagree that I thought it the right thing, setting things aside so we could have the relationship I thought we both wanted--"
Wait.
What?
And he's carrying on blithe, "If you didn't want it, I wish I'd realized it then. I wouldn't have encouraged it otherwise."
"If you thought it was a relationship he was after, didn't hear it from you during the week and a half after that night that he was staying clear of us," I say dry. "No. You were worrying after him threeday after it happened. You telling me that even then you thought I was after taking up with him? Did you take my hating what the Shuck and Verdandi did to him more'n I hated what he did to me to be bloody invitation on my part?"
Back again to matter of Dorian, and his nature--could swear he's part spoilt cat, really. "There are none that fear me, love, least of all, him. That's the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard," and the look of irritation I shoot Iago fades when I see he means it. It's Dorian Gray; he needs to dose himself to say he'd be wounded by being set aside and even then can't bring himself t'say any ways most other would understand, and Iago thinks there's no fear there? You could sneak up on the man and cry household and he'd vanish for another month.
"As for the louse, I didn't say it was fine or right, not now and not when it happened. I've told him so as well. Today even," and fine the words, but in the moment as it happened...
"You were fine with it then," I say quiet. "Less he forced you onto himself, and you never told me if he did." It's starting to rain, a little. Streets are emptying out some, between that and the time and us moving east.
"Love, I'm confused," he says. "You tell me you love me but we can't live together? I disagree," and then on to "You're not helping me by pushing me away." Yes, well, bloody sorry it had t'come t'this as the only way to even begin to give him less chance to tear himself up, but I'm still not seeing it as a wrong. "Is it helping you any?"
"It's leaving me surer you won't tear yourself up over some whim you imagine I have," I say quiet, "or ignore what I actually do mind. That's some help t'me; I'm considering it help t'you. And I don't trust you, as I used to. Easier to weight that out calm, when I'm alone."