Dodger is quiet for a moment, and deeply considers lying. He could say it doesn't matter, and push his thoughts aside for a bit. But lying has been getting harder and harder since he got to Hell.
He pushes himself up slowly, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Just really wish you wouldn't put that on me." His voice is low, trying and failing to sound mild but underneath there's a simmering anger at it. "You weren't here when I got here, you didn't show up for months. I'm fucking dead, I didn't think I'd see you again. And you wanna give me shit for moving on with my life?"
As if he ever really moves on. If he ran into Augustine - hell, if he ran into Benny or Arzial, he would go back to them. If he saw Janet, he would beg to get her back. He'll always be stuck in his own world, pining for the past.
Jason stares at him as he gets up and guilt settles in as the tone in Dodger voice shifted. He put him in a position that he had no right to say. He props himself up just a bit opening his mouth to speak but he really didn't know what to say, closing it slowly as layers of confusion pass over his face.
"I... I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to give you shit or anything." His voice wavers he shouldn't have said it, he knows Dodger's going through alot and didn't want to make things worse for him.
"I know you've moved on I um, I was just happy to see you after how awful I was when I first got here." He looks away moving to fidget with the blankets by his hand. "maybe we could pretend I didn't say it? It just slipped out."
"Whatever. It doesn't matter. But you're right, you did fuck it up when you got here."
He doesn't mean it, not exactly. But he can't help lashing out, under the pressure of wanting Jason, and wanting nothing to do with him. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, and bury his face in his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"I shouldn't have come here." He grumbles, "Francis is waiting at home."
Dodger's words really hurt but he just moves away and puts himself back into his pants. looking at his lap. His jaw set and his hands felt numb.
"I was scared and I took it out on you." Everything had been overwhelming and he ruined it even more.
Everything was so soft and nice moments before it was safe but he was selfish, sitting there quietly trying to figure out what to say. "I guess you should go back to him," he mumbles quietly. He wanted to cry but he forces himself not to his hands fiddling as he digs his nail into his thumb. "He's probably worried."
Dodger's shoulders tighten, and he wants to look back. To apologize, or.. explain something. But if he looks back, if he sees how much he's hurting Jason, he's going to lose his nerve. He's done enough of that.
His mouth opens as if to say something else, but he can't manage anything. He just wavers for a bit, before bursting into embers and disappearing through the floor. Better to avoid him than have to sit through another fight.
Jason didn't have the energy to sit through a fight he didn't understand. His emotions are always toyed with, as soon as he gets over it something new starts up. He flinches when Dodger disappears and tears just start streaming quietly down his face as he sits alone. The warmth that Dodger gave still lingered on his skin as he laid down and tries to go back to sleep.
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He pushes himself up slowly, and wipes his mouth with the back of his hand.
"Just really wish you wouldn't put that on me." His voice is low, trying and failing to sound mild but underneath there's a simmering anger at it. "You weren't here when I got here, you didn't show up for months. I'm fucking dead, I didn't think I'd see you again. And you wanna give me shit for moving on with my life?"
As if he ever really moves on. If he ran into Augustine - hell, if he ran into Benny or Arzial, he would go back to them. If he saw Janet, he would beg to get her back. He'll always be stuck in his own world, pining for the past.
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"I... I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to give you shit or anything." His voice wavers he shouldn't have said it, he knows Dodger's going through alot and didn't want to make things worse for him.
"I know you've moved on I um, I was just happy to see you after how awful I was when I first got here." He looks away moving to fidget with the blankets by his hand. "maybe we could pretend I didn't say it? It just slipped out."
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"Whatever. It doesn't matter. But you're right, you did fuck it up when you got here."
He doesn't mean it, not exactly. But he can't help lashing out, under the pressure of wanting Jason, and wanting nothing to do with him. He moves to sit on the edge of the bed, and bury his face in his hands, pressing the heels of his palms into his eyes.
"I shouldn't have come here." He grumbles, "Francis is waiting at home."
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"I was scared and I took it out on you." Everything had been overwhelming and he ruined it even more.
Everything was so soft and nice moments before it was safe but he was selfish, sitting there quietly trying to figure out what to say.
"I guess you should go back to him," he mumbles quietly. He wanted to cry but he forces himself not to his hands fiddling as he digs his nail into his thumb. "He's probably worried."
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His mouth opens as if to say something else, but he can't manage anything. He just wavers for a bit, before bursting into embers and disappearing through the floor. Better to avoid him than have to sit through another fight.
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