[The declaration, in its absolute unambiguity, catches Kell completely by surprise. Its force and finality leaving him speechless. No one, ever, has told him he matters so much. That he's priority. Kell has always assumed no one ever will. He is the one making grand declarations to people not the other way round.
Only it makes him feel more rotten. It is deeply unfair of him to run away from any conversation after making a whole scene about his worry. Kell knows he looks like death warmed up. He's been skipping sleep, rest, meals, anything that made him stop and risk his rising panic will catch up with him. Sex, no matter how awesome it always is with Jesper, would have been just another way for him to avoid it. And Jesper is right, he deserves to know what all this fuss is about now that Kell has dragged him into it.
Kell hates it that Jesper must have noticed, it's impossible not to, how he flinched, tensed, and hesitated before entering the dark room Jesper rented for them. Before the lights went on. It's a second, and it passes, but the very fact that it happened at all is a sign of a deeper problem. He hoped he got over it. Apparently, he did not.
Once they're in, he sinks onto the bed. Deflated. Defeated.]
I can't do this anymore, Jesper. I just can't. It's one thing after another, after another, after another. The first moment I think I've got shit together, there's another one coming, and I'm back to barely holding it up. One moment I think I'm doing fine, and the next it turns out I've been failing the whole time, I just didn't know it yet.
I'm so tired and ... [Kell stares down at his hands, hates himself more seeing they are shaking.] scared that one day, at some point, they are going to get hurt again, and I won't be there to protect them. Or worse. I will be there, but whatever I'll do still won't be enough. It's like throwing sticks at an avalanche.
[It's a garbled mess of an explanation with no rhyme or reason. Cryptic at best. But the floodgates has been opened and Kell has to spit the worst of it out before he can shape this torrent into something more coherent.]
no subject
Only it makes him feel more rotten. It is deeply unfair of him to run away from any conversation after making a whole scene about his worry. Kell knows he looks like death warmed up. He's been skipping sleep, rest, meals, anything that made him stop and risk his rising panic will catch up with him. Sex, no matter how awesome it always is with Jesper, would have been just another way for him to avoid it. And Jesper is right, he deserves to know what all this fuss is about now that Kell has dragged him into it.
Kell hates it that Jesper must have noticed, it's impossible not to, how he flinched, tensed, and hesitated before entering the dark room Jesper rented for them. Before the lights went on. It's a second, and it passes, but the very fact that it happened at all is a sign of a deeper problem. He hoped he got over it. Apparently, he did not.
Once they're in, he sinks onto the bed. Deflated. Defeated.]
I can't do this anymore, Jesper. I just can't. It's one thing after another, after another, after another. The first moment I think I've got shit together, there's another one coming, and I'm back to barely holding it up.
One moment I think I'm doing fine, and the next it turns out I've been failing the whole time, I just didn't know it yet.
I'm so tired and ... [Kell stares down at his hands, hates himself more seeing they are shaking.] scared that one day, at some point, they are going to get hurt again, and I won't be there to protect them. Or worse. I will be there, but whatever I'll do still won't be enough. It's like throwing sticks at an avalanche.
[It's a garbled mess of an explanation with no rhyme or reason. Cryptic at best. But the floodgates has been opened and Kell has to spit the worst of it out before he can shape this torrent into something more coherent.]