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 Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 5:52 pm
Something was wrong.
Paris stood in the kitchen, putting dishes in the dishwasher after dinner and trying to figure out something to say that wouldn’t result in some sort of a dumb disagreement between himself and his boyfriend. Dinner that evening had been an awkward affair, full of long pauses and strained silences and tense comments that did nothing to make the mood any less uncomfortable. Paris did his best to get through it. He smiled at the appropriate times, rambled about his dancing like Chris hadn’t heard it all before, and tried to hide the fact that he felt tired and wary and like nothing was going right.
The worst part was that he didn’t even know what was wrong. Between one weekend and the next, something had changed. Chris was… not distant, but somehow reserved. Like he was thinking too much and didn’t really like the things he had on his mind. Normally they would have talked it out together. Even if the subject was difficult, Chris would have eventually come to him about it, but this time… this time Paris felt like something was slipping. Something wasn’t right.
He would have grabbed hold of it, held on tightly and pulled it back into place, if only he knew what it was.
Paris finished with the dishes, closed the dishwasher and turned it on, walking slowly out into the living area to approach Chris on the couch. He lingered back for just a moment, cautious and unsure, before he came up behind him and slipped his arms around his neck, put his chin to Chris’s shoulder and sighed.
“Did you want to take the night off and skip patrol?” he asked.
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 10:24 pm
Chris didn't know how he was supposed to be feeling at the moment. He knew he was acting strange, and yet he couldn't manage to shake off the awkwardness he was exhibiting. Nothing had changed. Not really, at least. Paris still took care of the meals, the dishes, and all of the other chores in the house. And while Chris wasn't all that well known for picking up after himself, he couldn't help but feel, well... babied.
He didn't move as Paris approached him and wrapped his arms around him. Hell, he wasn't doing anything. Just sitting there as if that was going to solve all the problems in the world. It wouldn't. That was obvious. But sometimes he wished everything would be so much easier than it was.
"Why...? Are you not feeling well?" he asked, wondering if the cover-up was as obvious as he thought it sounded. Shift the excuse on Paris and maybe he wasn't as pathetic as he felt.
As an apology for his short response, Chris lifted a hand to place over Paris's arms, giving his wrist a gentle squeeze. He really didn't mean to be a jerk to him. Chris was the one with the problems. Not Paris. Of course, Paris wasn't exactly making things any easier. If anything, it made Chris realize just how much he was getting out of their relationship, when Paris was getting barely anything.
"Let's... stay home..." he finally amended after a few moments, bumping his head lightly against Paris's as he rested it against his shoulder.
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 10:35 pm
Something was definitely wrong.
Paris could hear it in Chris’s voice, feel it in the tenseness of his shoulders, sensed it in the way he moved—casual gestures that should have been comforting but just made Paris feel like there was something he was missing. He tried to figure out what it was on his own, looking back over the last day, the last week, the last month, for any sign or clue that might alert him to what the problem was, but inevitably he came up with nothing.
Well, not nothing. Not really. There were all the little things, the stupid arguments, the worry and the stress he was causing everyone as he dealt with his grief. He’d already been worried about dragging Chris through this miserable process with him, pulling him down and making him feel as badly as Paris felt. If that’s what was going on… it needed to stop. Somehow he needed to fix it. If he didn’t, they’d both fall apart.
He stayed where he was for a little longer, but when Chris agreed to skip out on patrol Paris released the hold he had on him to climb over the back of the couch, settling down beside him.
Chris didn’t usually cave so easily. Not about patrol. It was too important. Paris should have had to try harder to get him to agree.
“Hey…” he began, sitting close and grabbing one of Chris’s hands. “Is something wrong? You’ve been sort of quiet. Nothing happened, right? I mean, you haven’t said anything…”
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 10:46 pm
Was it possible to hurt from being too cared for? Chris was sure it was, but that didn't make it any less believable as Paris showed him more concern than he should have. Well... maybe that was just his own opinion.
He could barely get himself to look at him when Paris took his hand and held it in his, not wanting to see the sadness and worry that he could hear in his voice. But he forced himself to look, all the same. It was nothing more or less than he'd expected. Paris with his big blue-green eyes staring at him with more care and concern in them than Chris thought he deserved.
"Nothing's happened, no," he reassured him, unable to look for long, but wanting Paris to know that he wasn't ignoring him, or refusing to make eye contact. He liked being able to look at Paris, but it was too painful. It made his insides twist guiltily. And it wasn't as though he'd even done anything wrong! He was just... not looking forward to whatever outcome a conversation would have when he finally spoke to Paris about how he felt.
Maybe this was the conversation to be expected... He didn't know if he was ready, despite Michael's voice in the back of his head telling him that he needed to say something sooner than later.
"I don't know... I guess I'm just... not feeling myself, lately... or something..." Wow, that was a great explanation. He didn't bother trying to elaborate.
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 11:00 pm
The response was disheartening, not because there was anything specific in it to fret about, but because the vagueness of it had Paris wondering if he was right after all. He couldn’t deny that he’d been having a rough time lately. He was sure it got to be too much sometimes, having to deal with his low moods with everything else they had to concern themselves with. Paris couldn’t say he blamed Chris for it if that was the case. He wouldn’t have known what to do any better if their positions had been reversed.
He squeezed Chris’s hand, both in comfort and as a silent apology. “Did you want to talk about it?” he asked.
He dreaded that conversation. No doubt it would bring up all the things he didn’t really want to talk about—his father, the running, the fake smiles he put on to hide the fact that he still felt like s**t half the time. It wasn’t that he particularly liked that things were progressing like this. He didn’t like it, he hated it. But he didn’t know what else to do. How else was he supposed to cope with this?
It was different than last time. The only other instances he could compare to this sort of regret and heartache were when his mother left and when he’d first become a senshi, but even then he hadn’t felt quite like this. When his mother had walked out and his parents had divorced, he’d taken to misbehaving, hanging out with older kids on the street and getting into all the things a kid his age shouldn’t be getting into, and when he’d become a senshi the running hadn’t been quite this bad. It had all ended when he’d met Chris.
There wasn’t really anything to stop it this time.
“I know things haven’t been… I mean…” He tried to say something, maybe to start the conversation himself so he could direct it safely, maybe to apologize and gloss over everything quickly so they could move on and things could get better, but he couldn’t do it. It was too hard.
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 11:25 pm
He let Paris hold onto his hand, hoping that it would maybe give Paris the comfort he needed, especially since Chris was unsure that he was even all that capable of offering comfort to his boyfriend. No matter what he did, it didn't seem to help, but that wasn't Paris's fault. He'd been though a lot, and Chris didn't blame him for any of it.
Chris blamed himself for... being a coward.
"It's not you," he quickly denied, with the shake of his head. "I mean..."
... I mean...? He certainly didn't have a way with words. Chris didn't usually have a problem with saying how he felt, but when it came to Paris...? It was as though he had to be careful, otherwise he would revert even more in his coping of the loss of his father.
Clenching his jaw tightly, he tried to explain himself without putting any more nails into the coffin. As if that metaphor wasn't insensitive enough in the situation. "It's... it's not you," he repeated, letting out a small sigh though his nose. "I just don't... feel like I'm contributing as much to our relationship as you are..."
Paris did the chores, walked the dog, picked up after his messes, made meals for them... and what did Chris do for their relationship...? Have money. He hated that it was always about money. If he didn't have the cash to take Paris out to nice restaurants and get him nice things, there wouldn't be anything he had to offer him.
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 11:40 pm
Paris’s stomach did an uncomfortable flip as Chris started to speak. “It’s not you, it’s me” is what he imagined Chris was going to say as soon as he heard the first half of it, and that was never the sort of thing you wanted to hear in a conversation with your significant other. Wasn’t that the sign that something bad was going to happen? Either there’d be a disagreement or… or someone would walk out and that’d be the end of it?
“W-What are you talking about?” he asked, turning on the couch to face him, his knees brushing up against the side of Chris’s thigh as Paris pulled his legs up onto the cushion.
The way Chris tried to correct himself, how he immediately backtracked, tried to find a different way to explain it… it made Paris wonder if Chris had lied, if maybe the problem rested with him after all.
Anxious, Paris reached out a hand to gently brush some of Chris’s hair behind on of his ears. “I don’t know what you mean,” he admitted. “Why would you feel like…?”
He couldn’t finish. He couldn’t help but think that it was his fault that Chris felt that way. Was he not doing enough to show that Chris was appreciated? Did this have anything to do with that short fight they’d had a week ago over breakfast? Was he doing too much? Was it obnoxious? Did it annoy Chris? But why should something like that annoy him? Why should something like that even be a big deal?
Paris paused and thought back to when they’d first moved in together, how he’d made such a about wanting to pay some of the bills and contribute, and Chris had told him it wasn’t an issue. Was that somehow coming into play here, only in reverse?
“Chris…” he tried again. “If you want do something… if there’s something bothering you… it’s not like we can’t fix it…”
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Posted: Tue May 22, 2012 11:53 pm
Chris had feared that the conversation would turn into this. He shifted awkwardly, but not in such a way that Paris might think he wanted to pull away. Instead, it was just a nervous habit that didn't really help at all. It only made him feel more tense.
It was funny that the gentle touches from Paris both calmed him and made him tense up. Maybe 'funny' wasn't the right word, actually... more like 'sad'...
"I don't know," he lied, feeling like such a jerk now that he'd put Paris on the defensive. After everything he'd been through, he was being the one to make things worse. "I guess... I feel like I'm not doing enough. I don't feel like I'm... doing enough to make you care so much," he said with a nervous shrug, as if that would somehow make things easier.
Paris really, really cared about him. And while he really cared about Paris, too. He didn't think he was ready for his feelings to develop into something stronger. Not yet... not when they were both so young.
"I'm not sure if there really is a way to fix it," he admitted, because while he and Paris could easily start splitting up the amount of responsibilities, he doubted that would make Paris happy. It would make him restless with nothing to do. And Paris needed every distraction he could get.
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Posted: Wed May 23, 2012 12:07 am
“I don’t… I don’t understand…” Paris said as his hand dropped away, falling uselessly into his lap.
He didn’t like the way this was starting to sound. He didn’t like the things Chris was saying. He didn’t know where this was coming from. How long had this been going on? How could he miss it? Shouldn’t he have noticed something sooner? Shouldn’t it have been obvious that Chris was having doubts or concerns or… or whatever sort of issues he was suddenly having about their relationship.
But then Paris had had his own issues to sort out recently. Maybe with all the time he’d spent trying to distract himself from the fact that his father was dead it had caused him to miss something important in the parts of his life that were still alive.
“Of course we can fix it,” he rushed to try and offer another solution, anything but what he feared Chris was going to suggest. “Don’t… don’t be ridiculous. We just have some stuff we need to sort out, that’s all. Just… just tell me what you want, or… or we can just take some time to… I don’t know… but you can’t just… I mean, it’s not so bad, is it? If you’re feeling like… if you’re feeling like that… tell me what you want me to do. Tell me what I can do to help.”
Now he definitely felt like he was doing something wrong. That fear he’d had, that he was poisoning their relationship with his depression, it was coming back full force. Everything was his fault then. He was the cause of this.
“I’ll do anything…” he said.
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Posted: Wed May 23, 2012 2:15 pm
He felt like such a jerk. Paris was obviously distressed, and Chris hadn't even told him why he felt the way he did. Part of him was unsure if he should even mention it, because Paris had been drunk at the time, but after everything... How could it not be the truth? The way he went around doing everything he could to make Chris's life as easy as possible, even when he had a pretty easy life to begin with.
"I'm... Not sure if I'm ready for this," he continued to try and explain, shifting uncomfortably once again as he watched Paris out of the corner of his eye. "I don't feel like I have enough to contribute... I'm... Not being fair to you." Paris was giving their relationship everything. Him? He was just... following along.
Did Paris even know what he'd said? He hadn't given any indication that he did...
"That night..." he started, hoping Paris would realize what night he was talking about, "You said you loved me... I mean... You were drunk, but... Do you...?" He couldn't help but be curious. If Paris really did love him... how was he supposed I respond?
Part of him wanted Paris to deny it... the other part wanted it to be confirmed... but then he would feel even more like he had so much less to offer than his boyfriend.
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Posted: Fri May 25, 2012 3:18 pm
“… oh…”
The minute Chris managed to get out some sort of expanded explanation, Paris knew what this was about. He didn’t remember the incident Chris mentioned, or at least he didn’t remember it going quite like that. The most he could recall was Chris coming back to the apartment, the two of them drinking together before somehow making it upstairs, then nothing—just hazy glimpses of Chris that didn’t provide a very complete picture of what had happened, though it hadn’t been hard to figure out when he’d woken up the final time the next morning.
He didn’t remember saying that, and for the briefest of moments he considered that Chris might be lying, but that wasn’t right. He couldn’t be lying, because why would Chris ever lie about something like that?
And if he did, how would that change the situation they were in now?
Unless Paris were to deny it, laugh and say it was only because he was drunk, pretend like it didn’t matter and try to convince Chris that this wasn’t as serious as they both knew it to be.
“You’re the one who told me to move in with you,” he said, glancing off to the side as he evaded the question instead. “I told you it would be a big deal, but you… you didn’t seem to think so. I don’t understand why it wasn’t a big deal then but it is now when nothing else has really changed.”
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Posted: Mon May 28, 2012 7:30 pm
Oh...? That was his response? Chris wasn't really sure how he should feel about that. Paris was avoiding answering his question it seemed, although he would admit that he kind of put him on the spot.
And then it was turned around on him.
Chris visibly flinched when Paris pointed out how he'd been the one to tell his boyfriend that moving in with him would be a great idea. His father had just died, he had no where to go, really... what was he supposed to do?? Just let Paris go without a home for... who knew how long?
"I... I know what I said," he forced out, although it was rather difficult to admit. He couldn't even look at Paris now without feeling like he was just... some huge, insensitive jerk. "I just... I'm feeling trapped..." he continued to try and explain, hoping that it would be enough for Paris to understand how difficult it was for him to do this.
"I don't know if I'm ready for that... I mean, I'm only nineteen. You're only eighteen. We're still in school, I don't have a job... and I know that this is all a good distraction for you because everything sucks, but maybe you're just... confused... and latching onto the first thing that you can...? I mean, I care about you. I really do. I think you're great... I just... I have nothing to offer. I've never had the chance to really live on my own... to make it by myself... Be independent, I guess," he rambled, not really sure where it was going, but hoping that the point would be made.
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Posted: Tue May 29, 2012 5:26 pm
Chris’s response was like a punch to Paris’s gut. Here he was trying to pretend as if he hadn’t inadvertently confessed his pretty serious feelings for his boyfriend, and all Chris had to say in reply was “I think you’re great”?
For a while it was like he couldn’t even breathe. Everything sort of faded into the background and he almost didn’t hear the rest of what Chris was saying. All he could think about was how much of a mistake this was—moving in together, relying on someone so much, because in the end everything always came back around to haunt him. Chris didn’t even have to say it outright; Paris could hear all the things that went unspoken beneath the rambling.
His brain had always been remarkably helpful in providing him with the “I don’t love you”s and “you’re not good enough”s everyone else left unsaid.
“I’m not… I’m not latching on to anything,” Paris denied, staring at his knees as he spoke instead of looking at Chris. He was afraid of what he’d do or say if he actually chanced a look into Chris’s eyes. “We’ve been dating for pretty much an entire year. This… this doesn’t have anything to do with… with my dad…”
He didn’t know which was worse—the fact that Chris didn’t return his feelings or the fact that Chris didn’t seem to think what Paris felt was real. He supposed each circumstance was pretty bad in its own way.
“I still don’t understand,” he admitted, trying to come to grips with this sudden turn of events without becoming too emotional. “I don’t know what I’ve done to make you feel like you’re… like you’re trapped. I mean, I’m not stopping you from doing anything. I’m not keeping you around all the time, but… I can move out… if you really don't want this...”
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Posted: Tue May 29, 2012 8:56 pm
He really was a jerk, wasn't he? He could hear the distress in Paris's voice, see it on his face, and yet... he was making up dumbass excuses as to why he wasn't sure about where they were going in their relationship was going. It sucked... it was horrible... He could have said something more to reassure Paris that it wasn't his fault. Well... he was rather clingy at times, and Chris thought he could be given some more space, but...
"I mean... it's not like you wouldn't have anywhere to go... Mom's always said you'd be more than welcome at the house..." Oh God, was he really just... kicking Paris out? What a jerk move. "It's... it's not that I don't want this," he tried, knowing that he was sounding worse and worse. He knew he wasn't always the best with his words, but he typically didn't have any trouble explaining himself in a way that (hopefully) didn't put him in a bad light.
This? This was just bad...
"I've only ever dated you and Skye, Paris... I just feel like... I'm closing myself off... I mean... This isn't how I wanted this conversation to go. I don't want to hurt you... Although I guess it's too late for that..." he rambled, picking at his khaki pants as he tried his best to not sound like a complete idiot.
"You mean a lot to me, Paris... I just... I don't know..." It was all too fast, too soon... Moving in together wasn't really all that bad! It was just... Paris was so into it. The homemade meals were nice and it was always a treat that he'd walk Anna for him in the mornings to let him sleep longer, and he never had to be alone... It was just...
He was a coward and he knew it.
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Posted: Tue May 29, 2012 9:15 pm
Paris tried to look at this objectively. He tried to put himself in Chris’s place and see things from his side of the equation, but it wasn’t easy. He could admit he was a lot to handle at times. He could even admit to maybe getting a little obsessive, but he honestly hadn’t thought he was that bad. The most he’d ever worried about was his recent depression putting a strain on their relationship. He’d never even stopped to consider that Chris felt… overwhelmed or… or just didn’t want this the way Paris wanted it.
But he didn’t even understand that, because before now Chris had never given him any indication that he wasn’t ready. Chris had always seemed so… well, not always confident, but he’d at least sounded pretty sure of himself when he’d told Paris to move in with him.
Chris hadn’t even asked. He’d just told him, and now suddenly in was too much.
This was too much—this conversation they were having right now, but he couldn’t just get up and leave because then Chris would know that he was upset. Not that he didn’t expect Chris to know he was upset already, but at least he didn’t know how much this upset him, just that he felt a general sense of sadness and probably wasn’t in the best of emotional states at the moment.
Paris was at least pleased with himself when he didn’t cry. He wanted to. He’d never wanted to cry so much in his life as he had recently, and even though he’d been giving into the compulsion a lot more these days, he couldn’t let himself do it now. He had to get through this. Somehow he had to fix this without making Chris feel even more trapped, and without completely letting go of something he wasn’t quite ready to lose yet.
“So… you want to break up…?” he had to ask anyway, though his chest ached and his throat threatened to close off as he did so.
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