Isn't that question even more pointless than the last pointed one.
Is it worth it. Is it still good.
When he's not certain what tactic she's trying to take her, and it leaves him staring across the table at her, trying to figure out which way it goes and how that will help her. What next part of it could be turn on it's head and pointed at with a laser to for sensible tearing apart then.
He should say something, but he's already done all of this. Changing the words, won't change the the point. He knows. What it is. How it feels. Where he should be. Where he isn't. What he shouldn't wake up, thinking about first thing. Before Wo Fat and Doris break in, and he can't think straight anymore at all, until he's exhausted his head and his skin and his lungs all to the point they feel like they are going to burst blood cells.
And then half the time, Danny is still waiting with coffee, watching him with that wary, unpleased sympathy that he hides away under bluster and pulling Steve in close. Trying to wipe off whatever is left of the morning, and all his sudden rock sharp edges showing in his face and the way he holds himself. That Danny doesn't run, that he's still there, then. Even then.
When everything is so bare, angry, edged. Still wants him. Still works him over until Steve finds himself laughing and shoving Danny against things, burying himself in something completely other than the people who are alive and shouldn't be, for vastly different reasons.
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Is it worth it. Is it still good.
When he's not certain what tactic she's trying to take her, and it leaves him staring across the table at her, trying to figure out which way it goes and how that will help her. What next part of it could be turn on it's head and pointed at with a laser to for sensible tearing apart then.
He should say something, but he's already done all of this. Changing the words, won't change the the point. He knows. What it is. How it feels. Where he should be. Where he isn't. What he shouldn't wake up, thinking about first thing. Before Wo Fat and Doris break in, and he can't think straight anymore at all, until he's exhausted his head and his skin and his lungs all to the point they feel like they are going to burst blood cells.
And then half the time, Danny is still waiting with coffee, watching him with that wary, unpleased sympathy that he hides away under bluster and pulling Steve in close. Trying to wipe off whatever is left of the morning, and all his sudden rock sharp edges showing in his face and the way he holds himself. That Danny doesn't run, that he's still there, then. Even then.
When everything is so bare, angry, edged. Still wants him. Still works him over until Steve finds himself laughing and shoving Danny against things, burying himself in something completely other than the people who are alive and shouldn't be, for vastly different reasons.