"It wasn't a joke." The words roll out before he has time to think them through, and he realizes how true that fact is when it's hanging there in the space between them, waiting to be accepted. Rejected. Whichever direction it might go.
Except. Well. Mick's next words make that second option seem suddenly a lot less likely. There's almost a lift of tension out of him at hearing it because there's this borderline admission standing in the middle space between where Mick is standing, looking every bit as shocked and stunned as Leonard feels, and Leonard just stares up at him, half-bewildered, half-pleased.
"I don't think I'd mind so much." If not for the heavy-serious weight of the words, it would almost sound like a joke, just another quip to cast off all the three-and-counting years of building, building, building tension between them. But as it is, it's not a joke at all, but his own sort of admission, too.
A sudden flurry of movement, Leonard shifts in his seat on the couch, one leg folded under him, the other with his foot on the floor, bouncing with all the nerves rushing through him with the words he's about to say. He doesn't say words, he doesn't do this, it's unnerving, but Mick deserves at least this much, to understand, to know this is maybe exactly how it looks, now.
"I've never-- I mean, you know.... people, they don't really show up on my radar. I don't care, because they don't really catch my attention. But...you have. You've always existed in this space above other people, this-- priority I can't really ever let go of, even when I'm not here." He's been talking mostly to the rest of the room until now, staring pointedly up at Mick, desperation clouding his eyes as he really, really, needs the older boy to be able to make sense of all that rambled mess. "D'you get... what I'm saying?"
no subject
Except. Well. Mick's next words make that second option seem suddenly a lot less likely. There's almost a lift of tension out of him at hearing it because there's this borderline admission standing in the middle space between where Mick is standing, looking every bit as shocked and stunned as Leonard feels, and Leonard just stares up at him, half-bewildered, half-pleased.
"I don't think I'd mind so much." If not for the heavy-serious weight of the words, it would almost sound like a joke, just another quip to cast off all the three-and-counting years of building, building, building tension between them. But as it is, it's not a joke at all, but his own sort of admission, too.
A sudden flurry of movement, Leonard shifts in his seat on the couch, one leg folded under him, the other with his foot on the floor, bouncing with all the nerves rushing through him with the words he's about to say. He doesn't say words, he doesn't do this, it's unnerving, but Mick deserves at least this much, to understand, to know this is maybe exactly how it looks, now.
"I've never-- I mean, you know.... people, they don't really show up on my radar. I don't care, because they don't really catch my attention. But...you have. You've always existed in this space above other people, this-- priority I can't really ever let go of, even when I'm not here." He's been talking mostly to the rest of the room until now, staring pointedly up at Mick, desperation clouding his eyes as he really, really, needs the older boy to be able to make sense of all that rambled mess. "D'you get... what I'm saying?"