catchacold | ICy Inbox for Entranceway

"We gotta start talking, I guess. Good time as any. May as well tell her you bite it and I get brainwashed." Mick shrugged, acting like it was nothing and not the think he'd been trying to drink himself to death over for the past week. Mick finished his handiwork and tightened it just a bit, just to help stop the bleeding. "No problem, I got you."

Mick sat back again and looked at Leonard for a moment before he huffed a laugh and shook his head. "It's weird. I want it to be less weird." Wait. Context. "Not here. Though that would help. I mean us. I hate it. It's all weird."

Leonard said nothing. He just forced himself to finally look at Mick again and then he reached up with one hand and cupped the back of Mick's hand, pulling him close so he could lean their foreheads together. He breathed out quietly, but Mick was close enough that he would be able to tell that it was a shaky breath. Too many pent up emotions and there was no way out of it. There was no way to help any of it, because it was inevitable, had already happened and would happen again.

They ought to be over and instead they were stuck here. A second chance, but living on borrowed time under precarious circumstances and with Mick and him having so much to work through was a mixed blessing at best.

"I take it you get what I mean." Given the reaction, it wasn't a shock. He leaned into the tough and sighed, closing his eyes as he reached out and ran his fingers idly through Leonard's short hair, resisting the urge to do much more because this whole thing was awkward. They didn't do talking well and physical contact was always dicey. This whole routine? It was tricky.

"It's gonna be fine. I know it. I just don't like it right now. And it's hard to make everything feel right when it isn't." Mick explained the best he could because that's all he could do. It was awkward, he hated it a lot. All he wanted was to have his friend back and instead, they were trapped in this cycle.

"I don't expect you to forgive me." Not period and especially not right away. It was part of why he had held back with telling Mick more, because the last thing they'd needed was for things to be even more complicated. Yet here they were and there was no taking it back.

Leonard was dead and somewhere inside him was fear of that reality and closer to the surface, always, guilt over what and whom he left behind. "It ain't right."

"Too fucking bad, I'm gonna forgive you. Just takes a few and it's hard cause now I gotta feel both pissed at you and sad over you and it's just ... It's giving me a headache." He pulled back from Leonard and growled dangerously, or it would have been to most people, Leonard knew his growled by now. He knew what they meant. It was just frustration and annoyance coming out. "You gave me a headache! And all these f-f-feelings!"

Mick finally spat out because he hated it. He hated having feelings. "I'm pissed but I'm getting there. I want it to be less weird. It's gonna be."

"Yeah." Maybe. Didn't really seem like it would be, but no one had asked for his pessimism here and it definitely wouldn't help matters. Leonard got up, refusing to use a hand to steady himself, instead simply wrapping the uninjured arm around his waist. "I'll go get a jacket from my room, check on people."

It was true enough and it was also true that he wanted space, that they probably both needed space, but Leonard chose not to voice that part out loud. Not as if they didn't know it. "Hit me up if you need something."

"I never need anything." Mick didn't get up, he just stayed on the ground and stole the whiskey he had given to Leonard, taking a swig from the bottle. "Hit me up if you want me. I'll do the same." And, because this was going a direction that would lead to more awkwardness and Mick was trying to avoid that, he just decided to add on a little extra.

"Get a fresh deck, we can play cards. Tomorrow. Bring food."

Leonard probably should have said something else as well, but at least he knew when it was better to shut up. So he simply gave a slight nod that could mean just about anything and left the room, closing the door behind himself. He walked over to his own room quickly, before he could decide whether he felt empty or hurt.

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