[That's pain he's seeing. That's actual pain. He knows the kind of anger and resentment that smother pain all too well, can practically smell them on someone else.
Somehow they've both won the game and neither wants the trophy.
And he's trapped again. He can't leave now, but there's no guarantee of what he'll allow to happen if he stays. He's someone else right now, or very much himself for the first time in - possibly ever, and he can't predict his own movements. But that's not Petre's fault anymore, at least not entirely.]
Listen. [There's a harsh rasp in his voice.] I'll stay. Alright? This is fucking stupid. [It is, dragging his bedding out to the couch and sleeping there because of a few kisses. It's childish.] But I just wanna sleep. We both need to sleep.
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Somehow they've both won the game and neither wants the trophy.
And he's trapped again. He can't leave now, but there's no guarantee of what he'll allow to happen if he stays. He's someone else right now, or very much himself for the first time in - possibly ever, and he can't predict his own movements. But that's not Petre's fault anymore, at least not entirely.]
Listen. [There's a harsh rasp in his voice.] I'll stay. Alright? This is fucking stupid. [It is, dragging his bedding out to the couch and sleeping there because of a few kisses. It's childish.] But I just wanna sleep. We both need to sleep.