David Rose is very uninterested in that opinion. (eatglass) wrote in valloic,
There was so much to unpack there. Not only in what Alexis had said, but in the way she had said them. That little laugh, at least, was all it took to convince David that he didn’t need to sit around in a constant state of anxiety for her regarding this guy. That wasn’t how she sounded when she was thinking about her various shipping heirs or the various lords from all manner of countries that had wanted to make her their tenth wife. No, it was more like the purely affection giggles she saved for the least awful of Ted’s animal puns. What she’d said about Cullen wasn’t important- he was more of a Ted than a Stavros, and that could only be a good thing.
The rest of what she said, though, only racketed up his anxiety. Because even ignoring the brain imploding information about them being in two places at once, her comments about the dinner were a reminder that she knew way more about his life than he knew about her's, and that this clearly wasn’t limited to the things that had happened to her and these apparent other versions of ‘him’ here. Because she referred to it like it was an event she remembered.
“Yeah. He’s great.” He said finally, dryly, as he took the last swig from his whiskey and set the glass back down on the table again. “You know who else is great? Stevie. Who was also invited to the world’s saddest birthday party.” He was well aware that he would never usually call Stevie great. Not in a million years. Their solid affection was built on insults that they both usually knew meant the exact opposite. He was just being stubborn at this point, because that comment felt a little too much like the start of the conversation Stevie had tried to have with him regarding Patrick during their lice sleepover.
And he was still just as stubbornly trying to believe that no person who wore a braided leather belt could possibly be interested in someone like him, despite mounting evidence to the contrary. Admitting he may have been wrong in that snap judgement would mean letting himself be hopeful, and hope was fucking terrifying.
“That two versions of us thing would explain why no one ever reported a kidnapping while you’ve somehow had time to get all- all twitterpated over this knight in shining armor.” He said finally, forcing his brain back on track. His choice of words regarding Alexis’ affections was a bit flippant, but he couldn’t bring himself to pick anything more genuine or sincere. “How long have you been here?”
He thought about reaching out to take the bottle from her to refill his glass, but he didn’t. Nor did he take another cracker. Instead he just pulled his legs up onto the sofa and wrapped his arms around his shins in order to rest his chin on his knee as he studied her for a moment. It was a very defensive position, and his body’s automatic reaction to the question he was about to ask. Because her knowledge of his birthday dinner had made him think of said question, and somehow the thought of what the answer might be was really unsettling. He didn’t even really know if he wanted to hear the answer, but he had to ask anyway. “What’s the last thing you remember from before you were here?”