[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,]
[where does he start. can't exactly curse himself out for being an impulsive asshole. but he kind of feels like one (hah, the joke is that he always feels like one.)]
Look...
[he's sorry? is he sorry? is he capable of being truly sorry for a god damned thing he does? he's not sure-- just that every panic button is pressed, and he's going to overreact because he doesn't know what to stop himself.]
I shouldn't have done that. It-- was the wrong impression. We're just rivals, you've got Shrike and D.Va.
[They're not here, and he didn't bring them up. This was about him and Jason, not his girlfriends-- so why...?]
You're not-- in their way or something?
[...But that didn't actually answer whether Jason himself cared enough to want a relationship beyond fighting. Griffin inhales sharply, and - looks him in the eye to ask, bluntly:]
[sharply, defensively. a huge over reaction. he knows it is. but he's acting on instinct, saying what feels-- the most correct. what will get the point across that he shouldn't. shouldn't want to know that, shouldn't want to deal with his actual feelings.]
Sometimes, I just do shit, and don't think about it.
[or the consequences.]
I'm not saying I'm in anyone's way. Just that if you wanna fucking fight? I can do that all damn day. I don't mind fighting until you actually manage to kill me, if it gets to that.
[On a certain level, yeah - he understood. Fighting fit that mindset to a tee. Acting solely on reaction and instinct, never questioning an action because all you needed to do was win.
But that still wasn't an explanation. Just because he didn't know why the impulse was there, didn't mean he didn't actually want to do it. Only that it was reckless.
Searching for the spark of honesty in Jason's face, Griffin only had one question.]
[he stares griffin in the eye, thinking through the options. it was a binary. lie, or tell the truth. it wouldn't even need to be a convincing lie, would it? and telling the truth was never really an option in the first place.
it really was just lie... or lie convincingly. He could do that much. He was painfully aware that, well, griffin tended to take things at face value. it wasn't fair to ask him to deal with Jason. to deal with someone who was always thinking in terms of half truths, and paranoia.
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.]
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They keep me awake.
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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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[where does he start. can't exactly curse himself out for being an impulsive asshole. but he kind of feels like one (hah, the joke is that he always feels like one.)]
Look...
[he's sorry? is he sorry? is he capable of being truly sorry for a god damned thing he does? he's not sure-- just that every panic button is pressed, and he's going to overreact because he doesn't know what to stop himself.]
I shouldn't have done that. It-- was the wrong impression. We're just rivals, you've got Shrike and D.Va.
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Yeah. I do have them.
[They're not here, and he didn't bring them up. This was about him and Jason, not his girlfriends-- so why...?]
You're not-- in their way or something?
[...But that didn't actually answer whether Jason himself cared enough to want a relationship beyond fighting. Griffin inhales sharply, and - looks him in the eye to ask, bluntly:]
Why did you do it?
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[sharply, defensively. a huge over reaction. he knows it is. but he's acting on instinct, saying what feels-- the most correct. what will get the point across that he shouldn't. shouldn't want to know that, shouldn't want to deal with his actual feelings.]
Sometimes, I just do shit, and don't think about it.
[or the consequences.]
I'm not saying I'm in anyone's way. Just that if you wanna fucking fight? I can do that all damn day. I don't mind fighting until you actually manage to kill me, if it gets to that.
But that's--
[a pause. uncomfortable.]
That's different.
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But that still wasn't an explanation. Just because he didn't know why the impulse was there, didn't mean he didn't actually want to do it. Only that it was reckless.
Searching for the spark of honesty in Jason's face, Griffin only had one question.]
Did you like it?
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[there's a flash of surprise. because that wasn't the question he was expecting.]
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I said, did you like it.
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it really was just lie... or lie convincingly. He could do that much. He was painfully aware that, well, griffin tended to take things at face value. it wasn't fair to ask him to deal with Jason. to deal with someone who was always thinking in terms of half truths, and paranoia.
a beat too long.]
I don't know.
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