ruffians | #vampireproblems

Not that I can see...

[He shrugs again and looks up at Eames, giving him a brief and tight smile as he sighs and finally stands still like he's done.]

I'll deal with it tomorrow. I just got distracted while you were in the shower.

It's fine, I just...

[Eames lets out a noise that's something between a sigh and a laugh, gaze looking around the room at anything other than Arthur. This is dumb and he feels embarrassed by his feelings, but they're not going away on their own.]

I just wanted to make sure you hadn't left again.

No.

[He says it like it's an admission, like somehow what he did is worse. He knows it's not but he hates that he ruined the mood by coming in here and messing around with all this shit. He gives Eames another smile, but this one is tired and helpless.]

Unless you tell me to go, I'm staying.

Good thing that's not happening.

[Eames's expression is tired more than anything, but it's true he has zero intention of telling Arthur to leave. He leans against the doorframe and looks around the room, trying to maintain something impassive even though he can't rightly bring himself to actually go in before he settles his eyes back on Arthur.]

I just wish it really was this easy.

[Arthur looks around at his room, nodding slowly. If only going scorched earth on this place would fix thing, but he knows it won't.]

Me too.

I don't know if I've ever been as mad at anyone as I am at you.

[He says it softly, like the statement doesn't carry as much weight as it does. Honestly the words are kind of lacking for what he's feeling. Eames swallows, looking down for a moment and then back at Arthur with a sigh.]

I thought it'd be enough, just getting you to come back, but it's not. And I don't know what is.

[That makes him feel like shit. For doing what he did, for leaving, for just being what he is. It doesn't help that it's fair for Eames to feel this way and he can't just start a fight about it. It's always easier when they can just fight.]

[He sighs.]

I didn't see a way around this either. That's why I left.

[He wanders over to lean on his dresser.]

I don't know, maybe we just need to... talk.

[Eames wrinkles his nose in distaste at the mention of talking, he's a much bigger fan of snide comments and then fucking when everything gets too het up. They both are, it works pretty well for them. Usually.]

Maybe. [He sighs softly.] We could try pretending nothing's wrong for another day instead?

[It's a joke. He knows they can't.]

[Arthur makes an amused sound through his nose as he shakes his head. He thinks for another moment about what he's about to say, about whether he's just putting his foot in his mouth again, so when he talks he sounds careful.]

I did something really awful to you, and then I made it worse by leaving when you needed someone here. I can tell you I didn't mean it until the sun comes up but it still happened.

Yeah, and it's why I'm still pissed at you, but I don't want it to be like that for... Who knows how long.

[It's exhausting holding on to his feelings this long, no wonder he never does it.]

[Arthur nods, looking down at the ground because he's scared to look up at Eames right now.]

Well I don't know how to make it better. I know you're angry and you have every right to be but I can't do anything about that unless I know what you want.

[He glances up and then back down at the spot on the floor he's been fixating on.]

I mean, you don't want to hear why I did any of it and I've apologized a million times...

[Eames works his jaw for a moment before he responds, because he doesn't think Arthur's being like this on purpose, but it almost feels like Arthur is trying to say this is somehow his fault, and he can't let himself fall into that fight right now.]

It's not I don't want to hear it, Arthur, it's that your timing is fucking horrendous.

[Arthur doesn't say anything to that. Obviously he doesn't know what to say and when, and while Eames definitely has a point, it puts Arthur in a tough position where he feels like he can't say anything.]

[It's like talking a child. Eames sighs and gestures with a hand for Arthur to talk.]

Like now. Now is a good time.

[Arthur sighs and tilts his head back, looking up at the ceiling. This is hard to talk about, even though he's gone over all of it in his head endlessly. After a while he swallows and starts to talk again.]

Somewhere between you passing out and you waking up in the hospital I just jumped from 'he might never want to look at me again' to 'he definitely won't want to see me again.' I just got so wrapped up in this idea that this thing I had done was unforgivable - because it is - that I couldn't imagine it going any other way.

[He takes a moment and puts a hand to his face, rubbing the bridge of his nose because he's exhausted, and he's having trouble focusing.]

And if you did want to stay with me I started thinking that it must be some sort of stockholm syndrome bullshit and that I should leave anyway so you could finally have some kind of normal life.

Let's go to bed, talk about it there instead of standing about.

[Which is preferable to hovering in Arthur's doorway, it's true, but it's also a stalling tactic. Because he needs to think about what he's going to say to that instead of the indignant first thoughts about how Arthur can't decide for him that come to mind.]

[Arthur actually relaxes a little at Eames' lack of response to what he just said, because he's worried that he's stuck his foot in his mouth. He pushes off the dresser and follows Eames back to his room, sitting hesitantly on the edge of Eames' bed as he waits for him to say something.]

[Eames sits on the bed and leans back against the headboard, heaving a heavy sigh and closing his eyes while he tries to arrange the words in his head before he says them out loud.]

You should've talked to me.

[It's the thing that keeps getting at him, that Arthur would just decide on Eames' behalf what's best and not give him a say in the matter before he left. He's allowed to leave, if he really thought he had to he could, but doing it the way he did is the thing Eames really gets stuck on whenever he thinks about it.]

[Eames sighs and runs a hand through his hair.]

You nearly killed me, and then you left without giving me a chance to deal with that. I don't even know how I feel about it because I'm so fucking focused on you deciding to leave before I even got to appreciate that you're still alive.

[God, Arthur forgot what started this to begin with. It seems so dumb now, that he let himself get into that state, and then that he let Eames offer him his blood. All that matters is what happened next, though clearly that's not the case for Eames.]

I know, it was a mistake. I spent way too much time inside my own head while you were asleep, imagining every way it could possibly go once you woke up, and it never ended well. I don't just mean us fighting, I mean... everything, really bad.

[He gives Eames a pleading look, hoping he'll understand.]

And... I was scared. I thought I wouldn't be able to trust myself around you anymore or that I wouldn't be able to look at you without feeling ashamed. The guilt was paralyzing and I didn't think I'd be able to stand up to it.

[He looks down at his hands, clasped together too tightly in his lap.]

I was a coward.

Yeah, you were.

[He exhales heavily through his nose, frowning a little.]

But it's not just that, it's-- How am I supposed to trust you now? I've got no guarantee that you won't just leave again because you've made some decision about us on your own because you don't trust me to think clearly.

It's not that I didn't trust you to think clearly. It's that I was so not okay with what I did that I couldn't imagine a way that you would be.

[He turns to look at him, searching Eames' face to see if he understands.]

It was a mistake, not to talk to you about it before I left. I hope I'm never in that situation again but if I am... you know I don't make the same mistake twice.

[He did literally use the words 'Stockholm Syndrome,' but Eames elects not to bring it up. Eames nods slowly instead, listening carefully to Arthur.]

That's all I'm asking for.

[Arthur nods, more sure now.]

Okay.

[He's quiet a moment, thinking. This is progress, it's good, they're getting somewhere. Eames is still hurt, but he feels a little more confident he can work through it with Arthur being less passive-aggressive about this all.]

[He pats the bed next to himself.] Come here.

[Arthur hesitates, but ultimately decides to get up and sit back down again with his back to the headboard. Getting close to Eames still scares him, but on the other hand Eames is so warm that Arthur can barely resist. It's always been that way; whenever there's an invitation to get closer to Eames, Arthur takes it.]

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