[ He can already tell that he'd basically given Cisco a swift punch to the gut. There was no way to sugarcoat it, though. Nothing would equal what they'd had here, what they'd been slowly building over the past few weeks — months, really. What he hadn't been able to do with anyone in years now. Ever since she'd passed, Harrison had buried himself in his work, in meaningless connections on the rare lonely nights. Garrick— Zolomon had been one of them; it meant nothing. He felt nothing at the news that he was dead and gone aside from relief. Embarrassment, too, at the fact that he'd somehow managed to sleep with the most notorious serial killer of his world, but that was a little known fact and one that would stay buried along with Zolomon's dessicated corpse.
His eyes flick down to Cisco's hands as he steps back and Harrison starts to reach for them before stopping himself and pulling them back out of guilt. He was the one leaving, the one basically putting an end to their relationship by driving a breach-sized knife through it. What gave him the right to try to comfort him now when he'd only be gone tomorrow? His hands hang uselessly at his side as he stares ahead at him and for once, his eyes are vulnerable, raw. Anything he had to offer at this point would just seem cruel, with his departure imminent.
This was why he'd tried to put the brakes on all of— this before it even began. The heartache had only been inevitable — for Cisco and, hell, for himself. ]
Tomorrow morning.
[ It's a quiet response. He could elaborate — Jesse's taking care of everything else, Garrick needs a night to recover — could even try to offer him one last night, but words fail him, as always. ]
Cisco—
[ He tries anyway, grasping at straws. What is there to say, at this point? ]
no subject
His eyes flick down to Cisco's hands as he steps back and Harrison starts to reach for them before stopping himself and pulling them back out of guilt. He was the one leaving, the one basically putting an end to their relationship by driving a breach-sized knife through it. What gave him the right to try to comfort him now when he'd only be gone tomorrow? His hands hang uselessly at his side as he stares ahead at him and for once, his eyes are vulnerable, raw. Anything he had to offer at this point would just seem cruel, with his departure imminent.
This was why he'd tried to put the brakes on all of— this before it even began. The heartache had only been inevitable — for Cisco and, hell, for himself. ]
Tomorrow morning.
[ It's a quiet response. He could elaborate — Jesse's taking care of everything else, Garrick needs a night to recover — could even try to offer him one last night, but words fail him, as always. ]
Cisco—
[ He tries anyway, grasping at straws. What is there to say, at this point? ]