He wants to do so much, but all he can do is listen. He's reminded, vaguely, of Father Lantom talking to him in confession for the first time. How all he needed was someone to listen, to talk him through it, even though he cried.
His heart aches. It's not Tim--Tim is perfect, flaws and all. Tim is a masterpiece of a human being, strong but cracked, able to pick himself up time after time. Matt is stuck on his father. Matt is stuck on Stick.
He closes his eyes, listening, for a moment, but not at Tim--Tim has finished talking, and Matt is focusing on other things. Of a girl screaming as someone mugs her. Of people hustling in an alleyway. Of a hooker selling herself to an older man in a car, and of a brawl just outside of a bar.
When he opens his eyes, his grip is a little stronger.
"I'm disaster," he says quietly, and he means it as his face falls. He tries--tries--not to look hopeful. He doesn't think he succeeds.
"But I--I like that I'm here for you." He just can't be all the time. "I like that conversation, or no conversation, it's natural." But I have to leave. He licks his lips, unfocused gaze somewhere on the coffee table. "--I want this. I want us, even if inevitably it's going to crash and burn."
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branchandroot
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Date: 2016-03-26 07:11 am (UTC)His heart aches. It's not Tim--Tim is perfect, flaws and all. Tim is a masterpiece of a human being, strong but cracked, able to pick himself up time after time. Matt is stuck on his father. Matt is stuck on Stick.
He closes his eyes, listening, for a moment, but not at Tim--Tim has finished talking, and Matt is focusing on other things. Of a girl screaming as someone mugs her. Of people hustling in an alleyway. Of a hooker selling herself to an older man in a car, and of a brawl just outside of a bar.
When he opens his eyes, his grip is a little stronger.
"I'm disaster," he says quietly, and he means it as his face falls. He tries--tries--not to look hopeful. He doesn't think he succeeds.
"But I--I like that I'm here for you." He just can't be all the time. "I like that conversation, or no conversation, it's natural." But I have to leave. He licks his lips, unfocused gaze somewhere on the coffee table. "--I want this. I want us, even if inevitably it's going to crash and burn."