Re: In person: Misha B/Damian W
[He was told to hush. Soft and calm, and, briefly, he did. He did hush. He looked long at Misha, and he was willing, even sniffling like he was, to listen to what the boy said. Until a misunderstanding glared and fear (he did not recognize it as such) flared in Damian's belly once more.] No! No! I am saying—no, I am saying I would not. I—I did not. You think I sat and-and let her do whatever, because I wanted answers so badly. But, I did not. If I—If I had been there, I would have stopped her. If I had not gone, I would have. I promise this. I would have. [This seemed of the utmost importance to Damian and he did not wish for Misha to come away with this warped view of his willingness to endure strange touching for the sake of his own idiotic curiosity.] It will not happen again. I will not—I will not be so stupid. [He blinked wetly, tipping his cheek to fingertips in search of scraps of comfort, as selfish as it was.] But I did hurt you. I would rather know nothing than do that, Misha. Please. [An al Gol begging. It was pathetic, but Damian felt he was already stained. He could be pathetic as well. What was another bit of mud on his person? What was another weakness now?] I meant it. I would rather you be angry than—you can be. I—[He was not good at this, he felt. His tears wavered between nonexistent and then near-sobbing. This did not help.] I will kill her. Then you will know, it was nothing, and that I would—that I do not want anyone in my head doing anything, making me do anything. She—she said truth, she would show me a truth, and that is not what I thought she—[He was making excuses. They were true, yes, but they were justifications, as well, and Damian tried to shut himself up. He bit his lip. He shook his head. He got under the blankets.
The blankets were forcibly removed, but the breeze that came from this was nice. Misha's arm was better, and Damian, who had all but fully returned to himself at this point, with an exception here or there, was glad for this.] But I want you, [he said, again mournfully.] I wanted to know that it could just be you. [He blinked in slow, idiotic realization.] I do not want to lead the League. I want to be with you. [Misha exhaled. Damian, who was insanely needful, breathed in the boy's breath and kept close.] What if I desire to change? [He shook his head, sadly, feeling at fault, having forgotten anything about any basement. Damian turned his face up toward the angel's, scooched on his side and elbow, until he was of the same height on the pillow. He laid his head back down and looked at Misha in profile.] I was going to ask you a question.