And Nick breaks the door as he enters. This...all of this is just...WEARING on him. The doorknob is a twisted lump and the mechanism is shot. If it was locked or not...who knows. It's not now.
"Don't you fucking dare. What the fuck, Michael? I'm gone a night and I come back to find out someone died. And then I walk upstairs to find you destroying the fucking wall. EXPLAIN, Michael."
He has to consciously resist the urge to slam his hand into the wall again. Hands clenched in fists at his side, the knuckles of the left one dripping blood.
"I'll fix the wall."
Anything else he might say will have him burying both fists in the wall.
"I can't, Nick." He lowers his head, staring at the floor.
There's a *reason* I haven't... I just can't.
Still tense, he looks up, just a little, just enough to he can almost see Nick's face. "Her skin, her hair." He looks down again, "The way my whole body tingles when she barely touches me. Nick..." he sighs and the tension releases all at once. Almost so quickly that he loses his balance and starts leaning precariously too much in one direction.
He looks down again. "I'm not angry at her," he semi-growls. "Fuck!" And his fist jabs out to connect with Nick's midsection. "This shit isn't supposed to happen to me," he snarls, more at himself than at Nick.
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"Michael? MICHAEL!"
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"What?"
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"Michael. Property damage. What the fuck?"
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"Go away, Nick."
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"Don't you fucking dare. What the fuck, Michael? I'm gone a night and I come back to find out someone died. And then I walk upstairs to find you destroying the fucking wall. EXPLAIN, Michael."
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He has to consciously resist the urge to slam his hand into the wall again. Hands clenched in fists at his side, the knuckles of the left one dripping blood.
"I'll fix the wall."
Anything else he might say will have him burying both fists in the wall.
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"I don't care about the fucking wall, Michael. I care about you. Why are you hurting yourself...or do I already know? Is it what I thought it was?"
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Nails dig into his palms, drawing more blood.
Through clenched teeth, "I can't do this. It hurts, Nick."
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It's quiet.
"It's life. It's just another part of life...one that you've denied for far too long. I'm sorry, Michael. I'm so very sorry."
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There's a *reason* I haven't... I just can't.
Still tense, he looks up, just a little, just enough to he can almost see Nick's face. "Her skin, her hair." He looks down again, "The way my whole body tingles when she barely touches me. Nick..." he sighs and the tension releases all at once. Almost so quickly that he loses his balance and starts leaning precariously too much in one direction.
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"I know, Michael. I've always known."
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He looks down again. "I'm not angry at her," he semi-growls. "Fuck!" And his fist jabs out to connect with Nick's midsection. "This shit isn't supposed to happen to me," he snarls, more at himself than at Nick.
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"I know."
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He just breathes for a moment.
"You fucking talked to her, didn't you?"
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"Just earlier...to fix what I'd done. I haven't said a damn thing to her otherwise."
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Another sigh and his fist clench at Nick's shirt, almost as though that's the only thing holding him up - Nick.
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The door drifts closed.
Whatever will take away the pain.
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