"Yes." One word, almost too quiet to hear. Hartley wrapped his arms around himself, feeling embarrassed at getting called out and uncomfortable at opening up to Eobard of all people. This was so fucking stupid. "That's exactly what I did. Because looking like a crazy person who can't handle emotions is better than finding out that this wasn't...that he doesn't feel the same way. And maybe that's stupid but I'm tired of being rejected.
He wanted to say more, but he froze at Eobard's next words. No. He couldn't possibly be telling the truth. Except that the very nature of things at the moment meant Eobard couldn't be anything but honest. There had been a time when he had wanted to hear those words more than anything. Now they just hurt more. He had been happy with Eobard. He had loved him. He had thought, however briefly, that they could have something good. It had hurt enough thinking Eobard had just been using him, that he hadn't felt the same way. Knowing that he had, but had still thrown it all away, tore at something inside of him.
"Well, I'm sorry I screwed with your worldview by making you feel things." Thank god honesty didn't affect sarcasm. "But you're human. Well, metahuman, but still. Emotions are a part of life. You don't get to hide behind your family. I've met Eddie. He's basically the human equivalent of a golden retriever. He feels things just fine. I told you I loved you and, even though you felt the same way, you killed me and you threw me away like I was trash and hoped everyone would forget about me. Do you get how fucked up that is? You need to get help, Eobard. You aren't in a healthy place, mentally or emotionally. And you need to get to a place where, when someone cares about you or you care about someone, you can handle it in a way that doesn't involve panic murder. It won't be with me. I've moved on and even though I still care about you, probably stupidly, I'm never going to be able to look at you and not remember that you killed me. But maybe someone else. One day."