[August stops messing with his deck and just Looks at Waver again.
Lowly:]
Like hell you are. You're none of that [except maybe sometimes a bastard] and whatever assholes who told you that can go straight hell. I'll take them there myself if I have to. You're intelligent, and clever, and insanely brave to do a fucking fraction of the shit you've done since arriving here. You've fucked nothing up. And if you really were all of that, do you think Diarmuid cares?
[Unfortunately, he was swiftly realizing he'd painted himself into a corner talking to Ritsuka. Arguing the point now would invalidate everything he'd told her, and he'd meant every damn word he'd said.]
Of course he wouldn't. He never did. But I can't just-...I can't, August. I don't want to risk hurting him.
You can, and goddammit you are. [He starts messing with his deck again, pulling out some cards to do a reading but not letting Waver see them.] Do you know how long I sat there, not saying anything to Alex despite knowing I liked him and thinking it was possibly mutual? Almost a full fucking decade, Waver. For exactly the same goddamn reason: didn't want to risk our friendship, didn't want to make it weird, wasn't sure my weird supernatural ass would be good for him, and that's despite him also being ass deep in supernatural shit. The only person you're hurting like this is you, and so fucking help me I do not let my friends self-sabotage like this.
What the hell do you expect me to do? I can't just-...it's not as simple as 'oh hey, by the way after that whole thing where you died in my arms? I realized I was in love with you, just as a heads up'. Or 'I tanked my next relationship because I was terrified of falling for anyone else', or 'also I dated Cervantes because I'm so pathetically fucking lonely that I'll attach myself to any man passably kind to me'?
[...With that frustrated outburst done, Waver dropped into a chair and put his face in his hands.]
What, confessing to Alex? I had Elliot record part of the Nutcracker suite so I could make him a custom ringtone for his birthday since the tickets weren't going to be good until December--that's his favorite ballet. Then he asked me if I meant it as a date, I froze, he kissed me, and we both laughed at how stupid we were.
[A beat.]
Saying out loud like that makes me realize how extra I was about it. Hm. [Moving on.] You can probably just get him a gift that means a lot to him as a starter?
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Lowly:]
Like hell you are. You're none of that [except maybe sometimes a bastard] and whatever assholes who told you that can go straight hell. I'll take them there myself if I have to. You're intelligent, and clever, and insanely brave to do a fucking fraction of the shit you've done since arriving here. You've fucked nothing up. And if you really were all of that, do you think Diarmuid cares?
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[Unfortunately, he was swiftly realizing he'd painted himself into a corner talking to Ritsuka. Arguing the point now would invalidate everything he'd told her, and he'd meant every damn word he'd said.]
Of course he wouldn't. He never did. But I can't just-...I can't, August. I don't want to risk hurting him.
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[...With that frustrated outburst done, Waver dropped into a chair and put his face in his hands.]
...Fuck. What the hell is wrong with me?
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[He's only half-joking as he looks at his cards.
Reversed High Priestess for Waver (fucking shocker there), upright Page of Pentacles for Diarmuid, and upright Lovers for their relationship.]
Waver. Go tell him. Trust me, you need to tell him. He needs you to tell him.
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I-...I don't know. I don't think that I can.
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[He sighed, fidgeting uneasily with the pendant around his neck.]
What the hell do I-...how did you manage it?
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[A beat.]
Saying out loud like that makes me realize how extra I was about it. Hm. [Moving on.] You can probably just get him a gift that means a lot to him as a starter?
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[jesus christ. he respects the hustle.]
I...I'm not even sure what he'd like.
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[Just saying.]
Food's always safe. Alcohol? Pendant like yours?
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[grimacing because it sounds bad when you say it like that]
I think-...he might like flowers. Is that too simmplistic? That doesn't feel like enough.
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