[he's amused as he says it-- he knows what he's getting at, but doesn't care. that's who he was. however, it's impossible to not notice that Griffin was staring, and so he reaches up, and pulls his collar down slightly, so he can see the burns are gone.
it's brief, and he drops his hand soon after, shrugging.]
[The relief is clear on Griffin's face, and he relaxes just enough to remember to feel awkward about standing so close. It's okay, right? Jason hadn't pushed him away or moved to give himself more breathing room. He...
He wants to touch Jason's neck, to feel the healed skin with his own hand but. Stops himself again, unsure. Another aborted twitch and a flush of pink.]
I don't think you'd accidentally blow yourself up, at least.
[That takes him off guard. Griffin's head whips up, eyes wide and disbelieving. Who the hell could beat JASON to death? He was already fucking tough, and-- Griffin couldn't suppress the protective surge that welled up inside him.]
[Griffin stays in place as he watches Jason push away. His expression steels as he listens to him, but by the end, there is something darker in his eyes.]
[That's the last he'll say on that, if Jason wanted to change the subject. Breathing out a pained sigh, he finally moves from his spot to grab something from under the bed. Apparently that's where all presents live?]
[it is absolutely the last he wants to talk about it. he doesn't know what happened, but it's this giant hole that feels like it's growing ever closer.
and he doesn't like it.]
What brought this on, anyway? The scar points, fine. But you hate books.
[Don't think about how he stroked your hair. Don't get flustered. Come on. Be cooler than this, dipshit. Griffin forces himself to stand up and... hands Jason a leather bound hardcover, in his shade of red with gold detailing. It's an anthology of poetry.]
[Please Griffin died a thousand deaths in the time it took you to respond]
U-umm. I was tryin' my hand at writing music so I... started reading poems for inspiration. They weren't bad. [He, glances down, rubs his nose.] Guess there's something to'em.
he thinks he gets it-- and thinks it's a huge, huge fucking mistake. He can't be whatever Griffin's looking for, because he knows himself. Rival was comfortable because rivals fight. Fighting was easy, because he felt it in his blood that he was fighting something too.
this... isn't fighting. this was out of his wheelhouse.]
[Ah. Griffin's face flushes with shame as his jaw tightens. He shouldn't have just let Jason think he was asleep. It was dishonest. He wasn't supposed to know, or acknowledge it, or-- something he just couldn't understand.
It felt like he did something wrong, but he didn't know what. So he just admits,]
Re: 198
[he's amused as he says it-- he knows what he's getting at, but doesn't care. that's who he was. however, it's impossible to not notice that Griffin was staring, and so he reaches up, and pulls his collar down slightly, so he can see the burns are gone.
it's brief, and he drops his hand soon after, shrugging.]
Or the bombs. I know how to make those, too.
Re: 198
He wants to touch Jason's neck, to feel the healed skin with his own hand but. Stops himself again, unsure. Another aborted twitch and a flush of pink.]
I don't think you'd accidentally blow yourself up, at least.
Re: 198
I think I was beaten to death, actually.
[he definitely doesn't move back. but he half-- isn't sure what to expect. but might as well say it, right?]
Re: 198
What... the hell?
Re: 198
Eh, crowbars have come up enough that it seems to be a pretty well known fact.
Plus, you know, the fact that I decided to use one to beat the face in of the guy that did it. Made sure to ask him which way hurt the most.
Worst part? It didn't even feel satisfying.
Re: 198
...You're right. That does suck.
Revenge oughta have the decency to be enjoyable.
Re: 198
Even my life.
[he doesn't look back to notice the darkness in Griff's eyes.
not that he doesn't have something dark in his own eyes. but this is enough-- time to loosen up.]
Anyway, you wanted me to pick up a book?
Re: 198
[That's the last he'll say on that, if Jason wanted to change the subject. Breathing out a pained sigh, he finally moves from his spot to grab something from under the bed. Apparently that's where all presents live?]
Re: 198
and he doesn't like it.]
What brought this on, anyway? The scar points, fine. But you hate books.
Re: 198
I don't hate books. I just can't get through'em without falling asleep.
You always seem t'need one though... [Y'know. For when Griffin's asleep.]
Re: 198
They keep me awake.
Re: 198
R-right.
[Don't think about how he stroked your hair. Don't get flustered. Come on. Be cooler than this, dipshit. Griffin forces himself to stand up and... hands Jason a leather bound hardcover, in his shade of red with gold detailing. It's an anthology of poetry.]
I dunno, I thought maybe you'd like'em.
1/?
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[be cool.
don't do it.]
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[be cool.]
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DONE
... Thanks.
[he really wishes he'd had his hood up this whole time]
This is... not what I expected? It's... [romantic?] ... not what I thought.
Re: DONE
U-umm. I was tryin' my hand at writing music so I... started reading poems for inspiration. They weren't bad. [He, glances down, rubs his nose.] Guess there's something to'em.
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he looks at the book, and is again reminded that he... actually doesn't know what to do. this feels a little?
unbelievable?]
...
...
...
Oh.
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--I mean you don't have t'read it if it's not your thing. You're like-- non-fiction, right?
[nope this was a mistake Jay didn't want romance and this was romance you fucked up YOU FUCKED UP]
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[he pauses, actually still not sure what to say, glancing down at the book.]
... Are you sure you meant this for me? And not, y'know, Shrike?
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After a moment of strained silence, he can only offer up honestly,]
It's yours if you want it.
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he thinks he gets it-- and thinks it's a huge, huge fucking mistake. He can't be whatever Griffin's looking for, because he knows himself. Rival was comfortable because rivals fight. Fighting was easy, because he felt it in his blood that he was fighting something too.
this... isn't fighting. this was out of his wheelhouse.]
Were you awake?
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It felt like he did something wrong, but he didn't know what. So he just admits,]
...Yeah.
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