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killingsoftlyHe hated it here. He wanted to go, only where he wasn't sure. Just go. Go away from all of them and their smiles and their loves and lives and watching them and knowing he wasn't a part of it. Not family. Not friend. Not lover.
Maybe friend. One friend. One friend he was terrified of on so many levels.
He'd eaten, really. Something at some point. He wasn't hungry and the burger Fergus plopped down next to him wasn't even tempting, so he ignored it. He'd ignored Fergus in much the same way since he'd arrived. He didn't tell him to leave. He didn't ask him to stay. Part of him was gratified someone had been sent. Part of him was mortified. That he'd had to be sent didn't help, really. Of course she cared, but she wasn't enough for him any more than he could be for her. He wasn't even sure what "enough" would be, could be, might be. There was no enough. Never enough of anything and never enough of anyone.
He hated it here. He wanted to go. It repeated in his head, over and over. He didn't want to be part of their lives. He didn't want to care, and he certainly didn't want them caring for him. Didn't want them poking at him. Didn't want them visiting unannounced. Didn't want any of them sharing his bed more than the rest as he waited for them to find something new and shiny, which they would.
He wanted them to. Just find a new toy to fix, a new puzzle to put together. Leave him alone. He liked alone. Alone was better. It didn't ache like this. It didn't make him yearn for something that he couldn't have. No one to answer to but himself. No roots. No home. Just the road and the music and one audience and then the next.
That was what was enough. It was. It had been. It would be again. It was all he needed.
It wasn't like anyone (with the possible exception of the boy) really cared if he was here or not. And the boy...what he wanted Devin couldn't give. It wasn't in him. He didn't want it to be in him. He didn't want the constant temptation and the constant knowledge that the boy needed a friend and that would ruin that and so he couldn't even try...He didn't want that ache. That tear.
He hated it here. He wanted to go.
He wanted someone to care that he wanted to go. To tell him not to.
He wanted someone to want him to stay.
He'd eaten, really. Something at some point. He wasn't hungry and the burger Fergus plopped down next to him wasn't even tempting, so he ignored it. He'd ignored Fergus in much the same way since he'd arrived. He didn't tell him to leave. He didn't ask him to stay. Part of him was gratified someone had been sent. Part of him was mortified. That he'd had to be sent didn't help, really. Of course she cared, but she wasn't enough for him any more than he could be for her. He wasn't even sure what "enough" would be, could be, might be. There was no enough. Never enough of anything and never enough of anyone.
He hated it here. He wanted to go. It repeated in his head, over and over. He didn't want to be part of their lives. He didn't want to care, and he certainly didn't want them caring for him. Didn't want them poking at him. Didn't want them visiting unannounced. Didn't want any of them sharing his bed more than the rest as he waited for them to find something new and shiny, which they would.
He wanted them to. Just find a new toy to fix, a new puzzle to put together. Leave him alone. He liked alone. Alone was better. It didn't ache like this. It didn't make him yearn for something that he couldn't have. No one to answer to but himself. No roots. No home. Just the road and the music and one audience and then the next.
That was what was enough. It was. It had been. It would be again. It was all he needed.
It wasn't like anyone (with the possible exception of the boy) really cared if he was here or not. And the boy...what he wanted Devin couldn't give. It wasn't in him. He didn't want it to be in him. He didn't want the constant temptation and the constant knowledge that the boy needed a friend and that would ruin that and so he couldn't even try...He didn't want that ache. That tear.
He hated it here. He wanted to go.
He wanted someone to want him to stay.
