This time, there was no hesitation. "No." He half-smiled, a little wryly, as he clarified. "I almost bolted this morning, but yesterday? No." The smile vanished again, and he rested back against her, squeezing her leg lightly.
"When you said that I could choose not to show," he said after a moment, "that was when I knew I would." Frowning a little, he closed his eyes. "Not only because of the rest of what you said, though that was true enough. That you brought men and stock with you, that you would stand by Gilead, that you had made your own choice... all that mattered, but it wasn't why." It was hard to find the words for this. Now, as with the question before, he picked his way through what he was saying with exquisite care, speaking slowly and with long pauses. "When I arranged to marry you, I didn't think of it as I should have. I was thinking of pieces on a board, not of people. When you arrived here, when I began to think of it, I..."
With a little splash, he shifted, opening his eyes and half-turning to look at her fully. There was a frankness there that had been lacking before. "I thought, what is it I am condemning her to? A loveless marriage, fraught with ghosts. A husband who carries the Tower first, Gilead second, and her far behind either. A war in a land that isn't hers, with a people who mistrust her and a town half-dead. I started to think of you as a person, and I saw someone who would struggle at best under all that weight, and at worst break. And I would be responsible.
"Then I met you, and I heard where you had come from, and I realised you wouldn't break. You were strong, and you were willing to work, and you had a gunslinger's heart. And I thought that I had been wrong. The worst thing that could happen wasn't bringing you here. It was wanting you. That would be the harder thing to carry. Yesterday..." Again, he paused, running a hand back through his hair, and shrugged. "Yesterday, I realised that the worst had already happened. And I realised, not for the first time, what a fucking idiot I am." He laughed, a short little bark. "So, no, not yesterday. Yesterday, I realised that avoiding it would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do."
He fell silent again, settling back against her. The marks where her nails had dug into his back were stinging just a little in the warm water, and if that wasn't a reminder of how stupid he'd been to think he could not want her, he didn't know what was.
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timeasmymeasure
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Date: 2015-02-06 03:31 am (UTC)"When you said that I could choose not to show," he said after a moment, "that was when I knew I would." Frowning a little, he closed his eyes. "Not only because of the rest of what you said, though that was true enough. That you brought men and stock with you, that you would stand by Gilead, that you had made your own choice... all that mattered, but it wasn't why." It was hard to find the words for this. Now, as with the question before, he picked his way through what he was saying with exquisite care, speaking slowly and with long pauses. "When I arranged to marry you, I didn't think of it as I should have. I was thinking of pieces on a board, not of people. When you arrived here, when I began to think of it, I..."
With a little splash, he shifted, opening his eyes and half-turning to look at her fully. There was a frankness there that had been lacking before. "I thought, what is it I am condemning her to? A loveless marriage, fraught with ghosts. A husband who carries the Tower first, Gilead second, and her far behind either. A war in a land that isn't hers, with a people who mistrust her and a town half-dead. I started to think of you as a person, and I saw someone who would struggle at best under all that weight, and at worst break. And I would be responsible.
"Then I met you, and I heard where you had come from, and I realised you wouldn't break. You were strong, and you were willing to work, and you had a gunslinger's heart. And I thought that I had been wrong. The worst thing that could happen wasn't bringing you here. It was wanting you. That would be the harder thing to carry. Yesterday..." Again, he paused, running a hand back through his hair, and shrugged. "Yesterday, I realised that the worst had already happened. And I realised, not for the first time, what a fucking idiot I am." He laughed, a short little bark. "So, no, not yesterday. Yesterday, I realised that avoiding it would be the stupidest thing I could possibly do."
He fell silent again, settling back against her. The marks where her nails had dug into his back were stinging just a little in the warm water, and if that wasn't a reminder of how stupid he'd been to think he could not want her, he didn't know what was.