"Well, if you don't, you should." Except the words come out a lot less crystal-like and a lot more flummoxed that he doesn't. How does he not? How does he not know Leonard better than this? To see through the parts about him that have changed and the parts that are awful to know that the only thing that matters to him besides his sister is Mick?
"...no matter how much you wanna lie to yourself."
What a bitter pill to be forced to swallow. How long had Leonard been doing exactly that, to try to make himself feel better about the things he said, choices he made? But he can't even say anything, form a coherent enough thought to make words exist outside of his head at all.
"Used to be a time partner meant something."
His chest is tight and his head is spinning and if he wasn't better at controlling himself, his breaths would be shaky and erratic, but it's not. It's harder to take a breathe than it should be, because his chest is squeezed tight, seized with panic that he can't even process. Because this? This is that thing he's feared more than Lewis, more than death. He's teetering on the edge of losing him and he doesn't know how to stop this avalanche he's started.
"It- I-- It does." He hates how hard it is to even get those two words out, and how many more he has to force himself through. "It stills means something." Everything. Mick is his world, and that's why he tries to control and micromanage everything he possibly can centered around him, and them as a unit. Because if he controls the situation, if Mick continues to let his loyalty rule him and allow him to fall into line, then he won't lose it. Lose him. That's...the twisted way he's justified everything he's done. But... it's starting to feel like it was all for a whole lot of nothing because all Leonard can see now is Mick walking out that door and not coming back and even the idea of it threatens to shatter him.
sobs forever whyyyyy thiiiiiiis
"...no matter how much you wanna lie to yourself."
What a bitter pill to be forced to swallow. How long had Leonard been doing exactly that, to try to make himself feel better about the things he said, choices he made? But he can't even say anything, form a coherent enough thought to make words exist outside of his head at all.
"Used to be a time partner meant something."
His chest is tight and his head is spinning and if he wasn't better at controlling himself, his breaths would be shaky and erratic, but it's not. It's harder to take a breathe than it should be, because his chest is squeezed tight, seized with panic that he can't even process. Because this? This is that thing he's feared more than Lewis, more than death. He's teetering on the edge of losing him and he doesn't know how to stop this avalanche he's started.
"It- I-- It does." He hates how hard it is to even get those two words out, and how many more he has to force himself through. "It stills means something." Everything. Mick is his world, and that's why he tries to control and micromanage everything he possibly can centered around him, and them as a unit. Because if he controls the situation, if Mick continues to let his loyalty rule him and allow him to fall into line, then he won't lose it. Lose him. That's...the twisted way he's justified everything he's done. But... it's starting to feel like it was all for a whole lot of nothing because all Leonard can see now is Mick walking out that door and not coming back and even the idea of it threatens to shatter him.