The words came out automatically - almost a reflex - with an edge of panic threaded into them. Warnings that were threaded so deeply into his psyche that they'd practically become part of his DNA - maybe they were part of his DNA. Letting go was where trouble started. Letting go was likely to end in heartache for all involved - never mind that frequently he had kept himself closed off, and that Hannah wasn't wrong that he hid constantly and that this had also ended in heartache more often than not. He swallowed, flexing hands again, regretting how quickly he'd shot the words off, almost snapping at her. Even with the fuzziness of the alcohol, the certainty that letting go was where he went bad, was so strong. He'd tried to push back against it a lot. Theatre had been part of that, and getting on stage and allowing himself to play Heathcliff, to drag out those strong emotions and portray them on stage, had been safe spaces to let things go.
"I can't let go," he repeated, but quieter and less emotional this time. "I don't know where letting go would lead, but I don't think it'd be anywhere good. I have all this ... ability, and when I'm not controlled, it's dangerous."
He sighed, and stepped back across the room coming back to light on the couch next to her, trying to push away from the immediate emotional reaction back to what she'd said. "It wasn't Heathcliff and Cathy, but I don't think Heathcliff and Cathy are healthy," he added as a disclaimer. He might like the idea of deep, passionate love - the sort that Hannah referred to. But he didn't want to self-destruct over it either. Without overthinking it, he leaned over and dropped his head on her shoulder. Quiet, thinking. Maybe he hadn't really known Louis well, which was a thought he didn't care for, but it seemed somewhat irrefutable in retrospect. But his perception of the other man had been that he was much more together than Ren. Not that he hadn't had his own difficulties, but he had his own store, he seemed settled-ish in a way Ren wasn't. So Hannah's take wasn't a terrible one, and it wasn't that Louis had never stirred any desire at all, or Ren would never have done any sort of follow-up. The date had been enjoyable, but if he hadn't been attracted, he wouldn't have contacted him after. But it hadn't been what he'd call passion either. Then again, passion always felt dangerous, like something to be controlled in a box - usually a box labeled 'casual hook-up' lest it escape and create destruction everywhere.