[ Harry's answer hurts - and it's a different kind of hurt than before, when he thought Harry was calling him cast-off garbage. It hurts because Harry is speaking softer, now. That quieter rasp he gets when he is telling the truth, and it's hard for him. Like when he had told Cisco about how Zoom got his name, or about how Zoom nearly killed him before they closed the breaches.
And the thing is, he understands. It is the same way that Cisco feels towards everything that had happened with Eobard - he has no way to know for certain whether or not he had ever cared, or whether he had merely been using sex as another tool of manipulation. Had there had been any real attraction or fondness there? Cisco knows there is no point to it, that he is dead. But he also knows he will always wonder, and how always wondering wears and wears at his mind, a minuscule but constant pain.
Should he really be pushing so hard, enough that he would put Harry in that kind of pain, just for selfish reasons? Just because he's attracted to him, and lonely, and wants more than Harry is willing to give him? What kind of person does that even make him? How many times is Harry going to have to say no before Cisco realizes this isn't the same as badgering him about design specifications - this is personal and he should face rejection with a little more dignity than this.
So he sighs - a long, quiet sigh - and hunches into himself. ]
Okay. Okay... that's fair. I really don't wanna put you through that. I'll just- gimme a little while and I'll get over it, I promise. I won't hold a grudge, and I won't keep harassing you about it.
[ With that, Cisco is making a retreat to his own workstation, desperate to just build something, to get away from his own thoughts and make some machines. Machines were easy. Machines didn't have baggage, couldn't hurt him, couldn't be hurt by him. ]
[ He nods slowly as Cisco moves away from him finally. This is for the better for the both of them, he knows that, but that doesn't mean that it doesn't sting even a little. Maybe if the circumstances were different, then things between them would be as well. Maybe he'd step in, stop him from retreating. Maybe.
Who is he kidding, though. Really.
Harrison turns back to his monitor, pulling the keyboard in close and slipping his earbuds back in. He turns the volume down though, enough that if Cisco wanted to speak up and try again, he could hear him well enough. But even then, he already knew that wouldn't be the case. He'd been convincing enough in pushing him away. Too convincing, probably. He pushes his glasses up and shifts his focus back to his modules.
This was what he'd wanted. At least, that's what he'd thought. He couldn't be wrong when it was probably for the best. Probably. ]
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franciscoramon) wrote2015-02-21 01:38 am
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And the thing is, he understands. It is the same way that Cisco feels towards everything that had happened with Eobard - he has no way to know for certain whether or not he had ever cared, or whether he had merely been using sex as another tool of manipulation. Had there had been any real attraction or fondness there? Cisco knows there is no point to it, that he is dead. But he also knows he will always wonder, and how always wondering wears and wears at his mind, a minuscule but constant pain.
Should he really be pushing so hard, enough that he would put Harry in that kind of pain, just for selfish reasons? Just because he's attracted to him, and lonely, and wants more than Harry is willing to give him? What kind of person does that even make him? How many times is Harry going to have to say no before Cisco realizes this isn't the same as badgering him about design specifications - this is personal and he should face rejection with a little more dignity than this.
So he sighs - a long, quiet sigh - and hunches into himself. ]
Okay. Okay... that's fair. I really don't wanna put you through that. I'll just- gimme a little while and I'll get over it, I promise. I won't hold a grudge, and I won't keep harassing you about it.
[ With that, Cisco is making a retreat to his own workstation, desperate to just build something, to get away from his own thoughts and make some machines. Machines were easy. Machines didn't have baggage, couldn't hurt him, couldn't be hurt by him. ]
no subject
Who is he kidding, though. Really.
Harrison turns back to his monitor, pulling the keyboard in close and slipping his earbuds back in. He turns the volume down though, enough that if Cisco wanted to speak up and try again, he could hear him well enough. But even then, he already knew that wouldn't be the case. He'd been convincing enough in pushing him away. Too convincing, probably. He pushes his glasses up and shifts his focus back to his modules.
This was what he'd wanted. At least, that's what he'd thought. He couldn't be wrong when it was probably for the best. Probably. ]