But that doesn't mean it's not there. The fact he's faintly angry, frustrated, exhausted toward losing even more things in these three days. That doesn't actually stop it. From shoving in between the spaces. Breaths. The first second he looks away from her. Pushing, stretching, making space for itself. Blinding strobe light in every movement.
Danny. She doesn't know about Danny.
Which isn't even in the same category about not knowing about Doris and Wo Fat.
He doesn't know that he can tell her. Should. Can. If there's a way out of today without having to, if this is only the first hour. If this is all going to go like normal. Toward normal. Doesn't really know what the words are to explain it even. It's not Kono, teasing Danny over the table about his new girl friend. It's Cath. It's not like he could end that conversation with saying he isn't in the mood.
Because, Christ, that would be a lie. Even right now. Some part of him. Large, half-sour and half-not, can feel that tug. How easy it would be. To fall into her. Fall into the only normal thing to touch his world in -- months? Two, three now?
And he wants that, too. Which he knows he couldn't say to either of them. She's gorgeous, fun, good fun, a great distraction, event, time whether its hours, a weekend, days. Several of his favorite memories from the last decade, when not listing the ones that involved his work. One of the near only reasons he ever came off the clock, off the job, out of missions, longer than required by an order.
Cath doesn't deserve that, and Danny wouldn't even want to hear it. He's sure.
He doesn't even know what words go there. He what, has a complicated, thing? A non-casual one, that was ranted in panic at him. He doesn't know if Danny actually wants anyone to know. He doesn't know if he does. If anything good can come of mentioning it to someone who will see all the cracks in the glass they are both willfully ignoring every time they touch, that could explode and take every single most important duty from them both.
If there is anything to know aside from the fact they keep falling into each other, which is only ever occasionally into a bed.
That there were phone calls. Coffee cups. Words he didn't say. Did.
That it's always been there, too. In the simplest, most inconvenient ways. Those are words not to say, too.
no subject
Danny. She doesn't know about Danny.
Which isn't even in the same category about not knowing about Doris and Wo Fat.
He doesn't know that he can tell her. Should. Can. If there's a way out of today without having to, if this is only the first hour. If this is all going to go like normal. Toward normal. Doesn't really know what the words are to explain it even. It's not Kono, teasing Danny over the table about his new girl friend. It's Cath. It's not like he could end that conversation with saying he isn't in the mood.
Because, Christ, that would be a lie. Even right now. Some part of him. Large, half-sour and half-not, can feel that tug. How easy it would be. To fall into her. Fall into the only normal thing to touch his world in -- months? Two, three now?
And he wants that, too. Which he knows he couldn't say to either of them. She's gorgeous, fun, good fun, a great distraction, event, time whether its hours, a weekend, days. Several of his favorite memories from the last decade, when not listing the ones that involved his work. One of the near only reasons he ever came off the clock, off the job, out of missions, longer than required by an order.
Cath doesn't deserve that, and Danny wouldn't even want to hear it. He's sure.
He doesn't even know what words go there. He what, has a complicated, thing? A non-casual one, that was ranted in panic at him. He doesn't know if Danny actually wants anyone to know. He doesn't know if he does. If anything good can come of mentioning it to someone who will see all the cracks in the glass they are both willfully ignoring every time they touch, that could explode and take every single most important duty from them both.
If there is anything to know aside from the fact they keep falling into each other, which is only ever occasionally into a bed.
That there were phone calls. Coffee cups. Words he didn't say. Did.
That it's always been there, too. In the simplest, most inconvenient ways. Those are words not to say, too.