Re: Log: Damian/Misha
Misha was too focused on Damian to understand that this encounter, what he was feeling, might could be just a combination of what they both had going on. If he wasn't so damn worried that this was turning bad how things had done with Oliver, he might've realized it was just both of their situations tangling up messy and leaving him with real uncertain footing. But there was too much going on for that kind of clarity, and Misha only knew that it felt like he could get it all wrong with one misstep.
Now, Misha trusted Damian. He trusted every damn thing that came from the boy's mouth, and these days he thought himself sane, which meant Damian had to be real. It meant Damian wasn't some construct built by a lonely mind, and that helped some with everything else. Damian was real, and Misha trusted the things the other boy said. Even that eyerolling on Damian's part, it made Misha feel better some, and could be that might seem like an odd thing. But that was what he was used to with Damian, and he breathed easier some as a result. But, he wasn't expecting what Damian said 'bout Louis,' on account of the visit to Louis being a blur. He knew they went, but there wasn't a thing inside, not beyond glimpses of the apartment and Damian's daddy sitting there, Damian sitting at a separate chair, but there wasn't no narrative to go 'long with them images.
He wanted to ask what the differences were 'tween the two dissociation things Damian mentioned, but they turned to the morphine 'fore Misha managed to form the words. And then it was a whole different struggle, and Misha wanted real badly to get this right. And, Damian, his thinking, it was right. Misha, he couldn't tell if Damian was lying to him 'bout needing something. He only had Damian's word to go by, and he didn't even know if pinpoint pupils meant Damian had already taken something, or that he just needed something real bad. "I don't need helping just now," he insisted. "You need helping. I want to help you." There was something desperate in that, and it was a mix of wanting to make things better for the other boy, while not wanting to focus on his own things any. He was scared a whole lot, and it showed plain.
But, even with all that going on, Misha still went real willing to the window when Damian tugged on him. He let Damian move his hand however he needed to in order to light the cigarette, and he reckoned the boy wanted to be able to ash outside. "We ain't got to stay here," he said, not waiting for the cigarette to be lit to say the words. "I wasn't saying we can't go," he reiterated. He'd recognized that disappointment on Damian's face, and he didn't want to be the one who put it there. "I just didn't want you to go uncomfortable on account of not wanting me to see you taking your dosing."
He squeezed Damian's fingers. "Come." That was an echo. "We can go anywhere you please."