( a sigh. not heavy, and not especially surprised, but there nonetheless, like a summery breeze on cool, damp skin. he doesn't know how he and embry have done this so long, this dance they know the steps to, the purposeful way they each stop the music in their own time, and embry can still not know ash, the lofty extent of his feelings, the necessity for embry that's embroidered itself into his chest with golden thread. that he asks is proof he doesn't know, because the truth is as unchanging as the stars. it's been that way for years. )
I don't know what it feels like not to need you.
( getting better at living with it doesn't mean there isn't still a hole in his heart where embry used to take up occupancy. his favorite tenant. the only tenant he'd ever have, if life worked out the way he wanted it to.
it's a healed patchwork of skin. jenny worked as a balm for the worst of the pain for awhile, but now she has her own vacancy in that yawning, empty place — and seeing embry with hawk only opens up those old wounds freshly, an endlessly bleeding sore. the ice rattles around in his glass. by ash's count, he is a single parent and anything that happens in america is his own fault, but he knows better than to admit that much out loud. it's in everyone's best interest to see him as infallible, doubtless, and strong, or so merlin seems to think. avoidance is usually embry's tactical advantage, so maybe ash learned it from him. )
Is it serious? ( he doesn't want to ask, but he has to know, before he makes embry do something they'll both regret. he also doesn't want embry to feel bad about the answer — but a key is something. a way in that ash never had. ) You and Hawkins.
[ ash is, as always, incapable of simply not. he couldn't just let things lie, let things go on like they'd been, let embry be fucking happy basking in his warmth even if it meant straightening up when someone else looked sideways at them. he had to propose. he had to want to announce to the entire world that he was in love, because ash doesn't know how to be anything but honest. every time he talks to ash — even now — he's reminded of how happy he'd been, how that space right at ash's feet is the only place he's ever felt that sense of rightness and belonging, and ash is the selfish one for not being able to compromise, for taking it all away from him just because he can't understand sacrifice.
his burst of anger dissipates, leaving him hollow again. he doesn't actually believe ash is selfish when he knows what true selfishness is. he sees it every day when he looks in the mirror. ]
I don't mean in the abstract sense. [ he puts a hand over his face, slumped like a drunkard on his couch, his phone resting on his chest where he has ash on speaker. ] I mean if you need me, you know how to take it. No strings. Doesn't change anything.
[ he has to tack on the end, just because it's ash. he still won't give. he still won't take the ring. he still won't hold his fucking hand in public like a teenager in love.
his nose wrinkles at hawk's name, as if he can suddenly smell cigarettes in his house. actually, he would like that. ]
Is what serious?
[ he's not fucking his aide. okay, maybe he is, but not with any frequency that matters. it was once, maybe twice, but if he's too drunk to remember, does it count? do hand and blowjobs count? what does hawk's dick even look like? hard to see it when he's ramming it in his ass.
hawk has never been absent from his phone or his presence for so long since he took on the job, but he gets it now. it's tim. well, embry's also put his tongue in tim's mouth, so there's that. ]
There is no me and Hawkins. He works for me. At least he's supposed to, but he seems like he's forgotten. I like the privacy, though. Should I tell him that Tim and I got wasted and made out in a bar?
no subject
I don't know what it feels like not to need you.
( getting better at living with it doesn't mean there isn't still a hole in his heart where embry used to take up occupancy. his favorite tenant. the only tenant he'd ever have, if life worked out the way he wanted it to.
it's a healed patchwork of skin. jenny worked as a balm for the worst of the pain for awhile, but now she has her own vacancy in that yawning, empty place — and seeing embry with hawk only opens up those old wounds freshly, an endlessly bleeding sore. the ice rattles around in his glass. by ash's count, he is a single parent and anything that happens in america is his own fault, but he knows better than to admit that much out loud. it's in everyone's best interest to see him as infallible, doubtless, and strong, or so merlin seems to think. avoidance is usually embry's tactical advantage, so maybe ash learned it from him. )
Is it serious? ( he doesn't want to ask, but he has to know, before he makes embry do something they'll both regret. he also doesn't want embry to feel bad about the answer — but a key is something. a way in that ash never had. ) You and Hawkins.
no subject
his burst of anger dissipates, leaving him hollow again. he doesn't actually believe ash is selfish when he knows what true selfishness is. he sees it every day when he looks in the mirror. ]
I don't mean in the abstract sense. [ he puts a hand over his face, slumped like a drunkard on his couch, his phone resting on his chest where he has ash on speaker. ] I mean if you need me, you know how to take it. No strings. Doesn't change anything.
[ he has to tack on the end, just because it's ash. he still won't give. he still won't take the ring. he still won't hold his fucking hand in public like a teenager in love.
his nose wrinkles at hawk's name, as if he can suddenly smell cigarettes in his house. actually, he would like that. ]
Is what serious?
[ he's not fucking his aide. okay, maybe he is, but not with any frequency that matters. it was once, maybe twice, but if he's too drunk to remember, does it count? do hand and blowjobs count? what does hawk's dick even look like? hard to see it when he's ramming it in his ass.
hawk has never been absent from his phone or his presence for so long since he took on the job, but he gets it now. it's tim. well, embry's also put his tongue in tim's mouth, so there's that. ]
There is no me and Hawkins. He works for me. At least he's supposed to, but he seems like he's forgotten. I like the privacy, though. Should I tell him that Tim and I got wasted and made out in a bar?