Fix You - Cobalt
Oct 29, 2011 23:30:28 GMT -5
Post by Cobalt Weaver on Oct 29, 2011 23:30:28 GMT -5
Cobalt had said too much, and he knew it. He shouldn’t have said that, it wasn’t fair to Ben. Ben didn’t even know. He couldn’t have known. And the look on his face was close enough to heartbreaking that it made Cobalt want to hug him and apologize and maybe try to trust Ben enough to talk.
But then Ben scowled at him and opened his mouth and in two quick sentences managed to cut Cobalt deeper than he would have ever thought possible. And it was such an unexpected blow that it knocked the wind right out of him, pushing all retorts and anger and frustration clean out of him, and leaving him shocked and shaking and hurt.
For a moment he stared at Ben, the surprise dissolving all his pretenses and nonsense and defenses so that all that was left looking at Ben with betrayed blue eyes was something fragile and insecure and maybe a little pathetic, but honest. Honest and hurt and vulnerable enough to bleed over it.
But the moment passed and Cobalt swiftly retreated back to the comforts of anger. His expression closed off and he managed to muster a cold glare for Ben. “I’m so glad,” Cobalt said, his voice icy and metered, “That you think so highly of me.” He pushed himself off the couch and too his feet, walking to grab his coat from the coat rack and putting it on.
He turned, his face dark and furious, “I hope to god you don’t talk to those children you try to help like you just talked to me. I hope you don’t tell them that you want to fix them. Like they’re watches or television sets, or other broken things. Because I am just…” Cobalt’s voice betrayed him, wavering slightly. He cleared his throat and busied himself with stuffing his feet into his shoes. He straightened finally and said, “I’m so disappointed in you. Because you don’t know how much those words can—shit.”
Cobalt had already said too much here, and he didn’t think he could handle much more of this crap. Shaking with anger and hurt and shock, he shouldered his way out the door.
[ooc: T_T wrapped.]
But then Ben scowled at him and opened his mouth and in two quick sentences managed to cut Cobalt deeper than he would have ever thought possible. And it was such an unexpected blow that it knocked the wind right out of him, pushing all retorts and anger and frustration clean out of him, and leaving him shocked and shaking and hurt.
For a moment he stared at Ben, the surprise dissolving all his pretenses and nonsense and defenses so that all that was left looking at Ben with betrayed blue eyes was something fragile and insecure and maybe a little pathetic, but honest. Honest and hurt and vulnerable enough to bleed over it.
But the moment passed and Cobalt swiftly retreated back to the comforts of anger. His expression closed off and he managed to muster a cold glare for Ben. “I’m so glad,” Cobalt said, his voice icy and metered, “That you think so highly of me.” He pushed himself off the couch and too his feet, walking to grab his coat from the coat rack and putting it on.
He turned, his face dark and furious, “I hope to god you don’t talk to those children you try to help like you just talked to me. I hope you don’t tell them that you want to fix them. Like they’re watches or television sets, or other broken things. Because I am just…” Cobalt’s voice betrayed him, wavering slightly. He cleared his throat and busied himself with stuffing his feet into his shoes. He straightened finally and said, “I’m so disappointed in you. Because you don’t know how much those words can—shit.”
Cobalt had already said too much here, and he didn’t think he could handle much more of this crap. Shaking with anger and hurt and shock, he shouldered his way out the door.
[ooc: T_T wrapped.]
