He just rinses them. He’ll clean them with soap and shit later. Or maybe not. Who gives a shit?
“I don’t know.”
EMPATHY - (…every day?)
He shuts the water off. Doesn’t turn to look at Jean. The noise that comes out of him is short and sharp, a kind of sob or high pitched bark of laughter.
“Probably.”
It would certainly match the emerging pattern he’s noticed. Where he ruins everything because he’s a self obsessed psychopath. Because he’s jealous.
VOLITION - (Stop. You don’t even know if you did this.)
EMPATHY - (Every single day, Harry. You did this to him. The way you’ve been feeling? That but *every single day.* For what? Why? Did you like him? Is that what your love looks like?)
He should leave. Right now. But he knows there’s nothing really outside of that door. Abstractly there is an address in his mind. He can’t remember where it goes to, not really. There’s only his lightless room on Perdition and Main. There’s no Kim. He didn’t make that soup. He doesn’t know where it came from. Someone else did that. And that’s fine because even if Kim was real he couldn’t live with him anyway.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY - (There’s still all the promises of a boozy piss stained gutter to fall into and the relief of getting knifed in an alley. The night hasn’t even started yet. The day is young.)
cw more of the same + relapse talk
REACTION SPEED - (Dishes.)
He just rinses them. He’ll clean them with soap and shit later. Or maybe not. Who gives a shit?
“I don’t know.”
EMPATHY - (…every day?)
He shuts the water off. Doesn’t turn to look at Jean. The noise that comes out of him is short and sharp, a kind of sob or high pitched bark of laughter.
“Probably.”
It would certainly match the emerging pattern he’s noticed. Where he ruins everything because he’s a self obsessed psychopath. Because he’s jealous.
VOLITION - (Stop. You don’t even know if you did this.)
EMPATHY - (Every single day, Harry. You did this to him. The way you’ve been feeling? That but *every single day.* For what? Why? Did you like him? Is that what your love looks like?)
He should leave. Right now. But he knows there’s nothing really outside of that door. Abstractly there is an address in his mind. He can’t remember where it goes to, not really. There’s only his lightless room on Perdition and Main. There’s no Kim. He didn’t make that soup. He doesn’t know where it came from. Someone else did that. And that’s fine because even if Kim was real he couldn’t live with him anyway.
ELECTROCHEMISTRY - (There’s still all the promises of a boozy piss stained gutter to fall into and the relief of getting knifed in an alley. The night hasn’t even started yet. The day is young.)