The thing is, Leonard has never really thought about it that way. He's known for awhile now that Mick is important to him, and he's terrified of the idea of having him somehow taken from him. From losing the safety that he represents. But...he's never really thought about it beyond that.
"My heart is yours." That's what that look implied, attached to those words, thrown in Leonard's direction. That's what it meant and it was terrifying to consider. For so, so many reasons. Mick has given Leonard a power he never would have considered he could have over him by what he'd said without words. Holding someone else's heart in your hands meant you could unmake them, break them, ruin them completely. He's not sure he wants that power. But there it is. Right there, in one look.
It's easy enough for Leonard to get through lunch like it was nothing, and even ice cream afterwards. But the problem with words--spoken or not--that powerful is that they're sticky and messy and they kind of get all over everything in their wake.
Lisa's passed out after what was probably one of the best days she's had in awhile, tuckered out from playing so hard. Without her to field anything between them, Leonard is sitting on the opposite end of the couch that Mick's on, flicking through the channels to try and find a movie to watch, stuck with this thing that's reverberated through his brain all day and colored every thought in his head, every action Mick has made all day. What did it mean? Did it change things? Did it have to? Did he want it to?
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Date: 2018-01-03 07:58 pm (UTC)"My heart is yours." That's what that look implied, attached to those words, thrown in Leonard's direction.
That's what it meant and it was terrifying to consider. For so, so many reasons.
Mick has given Leonard a power he never would have considered he could have over him by what he'd said without words. Holding someone else's heart in your hands meant you could unmake them, break them, ruin them completely. He's not sure he wants that power. But there it is. Right there, in one look.
It's easy enough for Leonard to get through lunch like it was nothing, and even ice cream afterwards. But the problem with words--spoken or not--that powerful is that they're sticky and messy and they kind of get all over everything in their wake.
Lisa's passed out after what was probably one of the best days she's had in awhile, tuckered out from playing so hard. Without her to field anything between them, Leonard is sitting on the opposite end of the couch that Mick's on, flicking through the channels to try and find a movie to watch, stuck with this thing that's reverberated through his brain all day and colored every thought in his head, every action Mick has made all day. What did it mean? Did it change things? Did it have to? Did he want it to?