[Eddie manages the lightheartedness to wrinkle his nose when Cisco says that he's stubborn and thinks that they should be talking about Eddie. He doesn't particularly agree, he's curious about why Cisco doesn't want to go home, but Cisco seems pretty intent on trying to counter everything Eddie just said about himself. There's a light tug at his hair, a comment about his teeth, about making Cisco and Yuri laugh, about not using or betraying Cisco, and all the things he'd done for his job back home and here.
Licking his lips, Eddie glances down at his own knee, exhaling a slightly heavy thigh. The way Cisco is talking - it's nice to hear, all these positive things about himself, but at the same time, he thinks maybe Cisco missed the point of what he meant. That he didn't mean his hair and teeth and the things he's done are fake, but that there's just something inside him that's somehow missing or broken or not good enough to make his appeal long-term or deep. That maybe there's something shallow about him that makes people get tired of him or not want to commit in a real, unwavering way.
But he doesn't know how to say it.
So he just chews on his inner lip for a few moments, swallowing hard, still feeling that burn of tears in his eyes and throat, trying to work out how to respond. After a moment, he exhales, tries to take some of the pressure off by doing it.]
That's not what I mean. It's more like... [He swallows hard.] ...like doing the normal things that cops do, or making my hair look like a magazine, or the way my teeth look - totally because of braces, by the way - those aren't what I mean. I mean the stuff inside me. The stuff that makes me who I am. I'm not interesting or unique, there's not enough there to keep people interested enough that they actually want to commit or only want me.
[Curling his fingers, Eddie scrapes his blunt nails along the ridges of his jeans, swallowing hard again, avoiding eye contact.]
I get it. It's probably hard to understand for someone like you. You have so much stuff going on, so many interests and so much personality, and you're unique and smart and all that. I'm not like that.
no subject
Licking his lips, Eddie glances down at his own knee, exhaling a slightly heavy thigh. The way Cisco is talking - it's nice to hear, all these positive things about himself, but at the same time, he thinks maybe Cisco missed the point of what he meant. That he didn't mean his hair and teeth and the things he's done are fake, but that there's just something inside him that's somehow missing or broken or not good enough to make his appeal long-term or deep. That maybe there's something shallow about him that makes people get tired of him or not want to commit in a real, unwavering way.
But he doesn't know how to say it.
So he just chews on his inner lip for a few moments, swallowing hard, still feeling that burn of tears in his eyes and throat, trying to work out how to respond. After a moment, he exhales, tries to take some of the pressure off by doing it.]
That's not what I mean. It's more like... [He swallows hard.] ...like doing the normal things that cops do, or making my hair look like a magazine, or the way my teeth look - totally because of braces, by the way - those aren't what I mean. I mean the stuff inside me. The stuff that makes me who I am. I'm not interesting or unique, there's not enough there to keep people interested enough that they actually want to commit or only want me.
[Curling his fingers, Eddie scrapes his blunt nails along the ridges of his jeans, swallowing hard again, avoiding eye contact.]
I get it. It's probably hard to understand for someone like you. You have so much stuff going on, so many interests and so much personality, and you're unique and smart and all that. I'm not like that.