WHO: Much, Tuck and Will WHEN: Two days after the party where Marcie kissed him WHERE: The Parsonage WHAT: Much doesn't know how to make anything better WARNINGS: Probably none
I should message Marcie, Much thought, making his way back across town to the Parsonage.
He had a seat on the subway and was moving and swaying along with the car, his phone out, reading over their messages. Looking for clues. How long had she liked him for? Had he said or done anything that made him sound like a dick who was leading her on? Were there any signs? To him, all their messages read like they were friends.
Friends who said things like It helps. Having someone who expects better of me. He made her want to be a better person and he kept reading over that and wanting to rip open his chest.
And: Much, I never really thanked you properly. For everything.
And: But you saved me.
The urge to kick something was intense. But he wasn't about to start booting city property and really what he wanted to kick the most was his own arse. How were you supposed to be a good person if you couldn't even see where you were fucking up?! Idiot, idiot, idiot.
He might've kicked a few bushes on the walk from station to Parsonage, though not any within the last block before home, in case there were gnomes. His chest was aching from all this crap but he wasn't going to take it out on gnomes.
He kept replaying the way she’d kissed him, the look on her face so clear in his memory. Her nerves, and then the way she’d melted into him, like she had no question in her mind that he would catch her, and then he didn’t. And he just wanted to go and find her and tell her he was sorry. Again.
He kept thinking he should message her, though. And then didn't. And then thought about it again. And then didn't.
Aaaaauuuuugh Much thought, trudging up the path to the front door and letting himself in. He locked the door behind him, bolt falling into place with a heavy and empty thump. For a moment, he just leaned his forehead against the wood of the door, before pushing himself away from it with a groan.
He could hear voices in the lounge and he trudged his way through there, too. Tuck and Will were on the couch together, and instead of saying hello Much walked over, dragging the heavy cloud that'd followed him home with him. He put his hands between them to pry them apart so there was room for him them dropped himself heavily down on the couch, throwing his head over the back to stare up at the ceiling, arms crossed.