[ There's a wash of warmth, and he's looking into her eyes before he can think to stop himself, her voice catches him so immediately, hooks him so down-deep. She's very good to him. She's better than anybody should be. (Better than he deserves, and yes he thinks she's telling him otherwise, but no he can't keep the thought entirely at bay, can't help himself from thinking how she hadn't wanted to help, how she never leaves him without reason, how what he's done must be against her wanting. How he's never made too many good decisions.
Except staying married to her. There's that, at least. There's that.)
He tries to smile. A little, just a little, and what he manages is the slightest upturn of his lips, a quirk that flutters quickly out. She's a very good wife. He's... Well. He's something. ]
Maybe we should go to bed.
[ That's also not fair, though. That's incomplete, and he stops himself from turning away, finds her eyes again. ]
no subject
Except staying married to her. There's that, at least. There's that.)
He tries to smile. A little, just a little, and what he manages is the slightest upturn of his lips, a quirk that flutters quickly out. She's a very good wife. He's... Well. He's something. ]
Maybe we should go to bed.
[ That's also not fair, though. That's incomplete, and he stops himself from turning away, finds her eyes again. ]
I love you too, kid.