[It was the simple offer, spoken in the husky tone of a man wracked by grief and inner turmoil, that made Barnaby drop his hand to his side and hold still. If not for Saori's suggestion to stay in House 44 in the days that followed the incident, Barnaby was sure that he would have relied on the bottles to sleep at night. Every night. Instead his only recourse was to stay awake until he was exhausted, and even then the sleep was fitful.
There was no way to win.
Barnaby peered over his shoulder at the man he had called lover for years-- no, weeks. He remembered the way his eye lit up when he laughed over something that the dogs did, and the way they fell into eachothers arms on those nights--
No. It was only a few. He flushed at the memory of those sweet, hazy nights. It was something that Barnaby had hoped to forget. But, it was impossible to ever forget.
He slid his hands into his pockets and slowly turned around, not daring to make eye contact. It was too intimate.
He wished he had left his glasses in his room.]
Yeah. [His own tone was almost noncommital.] I was planning to drink anyway.
[Just a glass of wine in front of a fake city that was far easier to dream about.]
no subject
There was no way to win.
Barnaby peered over his shoulder at the man he had called lover for years-- no, weeks. He remembered the way his eye lit up when he laughed over something that the dogs did, and the way they fell into eachothers arms on those nights--
No. It was only a few. He flushed at the memory of those sweet, hazy nights. It was something that Barnaby had hoped to forget. But, it was impossible to ever forget.
He slid his hands into his pockets and slowly turned around, not daring to make eye contact. It was too intimate.
He wished he had left his glasses in his room.]
Yeah. [His own tone was almost noncommital.] I was planning to drink anyway.
[Just a glass of wine in front of a fake city that was far easier to dream about.]