[ It's true. His plans usually suck. Every once in a while he falls ass backwards into a good one, but for the most part, they're a mess. Probably because he never really plans. He gets an idea and he follows it, without giving the consequences more than a cursory glance. If that. A lot of the time, he doesn't even bother with that.
As raw as he feels, he doesn't take offense to what Locus says. He knows it isn't a condemnation, even if it is true. ]
That's why we usually stick to yours.
[ His thumb rubs over Locus' hand, the fingers of the other fiddling with the sheet covering his leg. He isn't planning to say anything else, content to lapse into silence and just be alive for a moment. So of course, he finds himself blurting out; ]
I missed you. All the years we were— [ At odds. Not themselves. Too caught up in all the shit to remember or care about who they were. ] Nothing's ever free, right? It's worth it. [ Dying. ] Having you back.
no subject
As raw as he feels, he doesn't take offense to what Locus says. He knows it isn't a condemnation, even if it is true. ]
That's why we usually stick to yours.
[ His thumb rubs over Locus' hand, the fingers of the other fiddling with the sheet covering his leg. He isn't planning to say anything else, content to lapse into silence and just be alive for a moment. So of course, he finds himself blurting out; ]
I missed you. All the years we were— [ At odds. Not themselves. Too caught up in all the shit to remember or care about who they were. ] Nothing's ever free, right? It's worth it. [ Dying. ] Having you back.