Leonard frowns at the preface Mick gives him, leaning a little too heavily against the door that he no shut behind him. There's a heavy tension in the space between them, and added with instruction for interruptions, Leonard's mind is already kicking into overdrive. What was this about? Last night, obviously, but in what way? It doesn't sound good. In fact, it sounds downright final. For a second, while Mick tries to pull his words together, all he hears is the pounding of his heart in his own ears, fear, anxiety creeping across his skin and settling in his chest.
This is it. You pushed too far and he reached his limit. He's leaving.
That thought alone is like feet pounding pavement in his head. Steady, hard, fast, over and over and over and over again. This is it... He's leaving. He's leaving. He's leaving. He's leaving me. And if he wasn't having this conversation with him face-to-face, if Mick wasn't planted right there a few feet away from him in front of the door, he'd have lost himself to the swelling panic in his chest. But his voice is enough to ground him.
Except the words Mick is saying don't add up to that and the confusion swirls like smoke in his head. This doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense.
"Lise told me why."
No. She told him what she thought, what she always told him. That it was Lewis. And the way things just kept getting worse as they years went on. It was a shift in the dynamic resulted entirely from growing up in an abusive home.
Because Lisa didn't know the real reason. She couldn't. Could she?
"I love you ... I'll try and be better." No. No, this doesn't add up, this doesn't make sense.
He sits in silence for a long several minutes, trying to piece together what he's thinking and feeling to what Mick is saying, but it feels like he's missing something. Some vital piece of this puzzle that's been left out.
"What'd- what d'you mean? Lise told you why... what did she..." his words trail off as he frowns again, still trying to figure out where all this was coming from, what he was really saying. His tongue darts out over his lips as he tries to think this through.
But it isn't a well-thought out response that comes out of his mouth, it's a distracted, stream-of-consciousness instead. "I'm not... I'm not the best thing for anyone, I'm a fucking mess."
no subject
This is it. You pushed too far and he reached his limit. He's leaving.
That thought alone is like feet pounding pavement in his head. Steady, hard, fast, over and over and over and over again. This is it... He's leaving. He's leaving. He's leaving. He's leaving me. And if he wasn't having this conversation with him face-to-face, if Mick wasn't planted right there a few feet away from him in front of the door, he'd have lost himself to the swelling panic in his chest. But his voice is enough to ground him.
Except the words Mick is saying don't add up to that and the confusion swirls like smoke in his head. This doesn't make sense. None of this makes sense.
"Lise told me why."
No.
She told him what she thought, what she always told him. That it was Lewis. And the way things just kept getting worse as they years went on.
It was a shift in the dynamic resulted entirely from growing up in an abusive home.
Because Lisa didn't know the real reason.
She couldn't.
Could she?
"I love you ... I'll try and be better."
No. No, this doesn't add up, this doesn't make sense.
He sits in silence for a long several minutes, trying to piece together what he's thinking and feeling to what Mick is saying, but it feels like he's missing something. Some vital piece of this puzzle that's been left out.
"What'd- what d'you mean? Lise told you why... what did she..." his words trail off as he frowns again, still trying to figure out where all this was coming from, what he was really saying. His tongue darts out over his lips as he tries to think this through.
But it isn't a well-thought out response that comes out of his mouth, it's a distracted, stream-of-consciousness instead. "I'm not... I'm not the best thing for anyone, I'm a fucking mess."