bruise

robby “i know what i said hurt. it was meant to.” robinavitch

&

HELLO alright, im up for it! this got me going after a little period of inactivity. here we are:

Fact: disclosing thoughts and feeling and allowing someone to be vulnerable typically leads to greater intimacy and understanding between people and, ultimately, more satisfaction.

Frank thinks about the lockers, the shouting, the shame that had coiled low in his gut, the dread and the fear and the utter, awful, hideous, repulsive sort of humiliation that came with pleading Robby to believe him, hear him out, to please please please listen because Robby was the only one he’d ever— no one before had ever—

Another fact: Frank had never begged someone before, not like that. Not even Abby.

“You stole drugs, Frank,” Robby professes, “for god knows how long, right under my nose, and I let it happen.”

“You didn’t know.” Frank tries to mend with his healer’s hands and the tears on his face have dried, leaving behind uncomfortable, itchy skin and he should know better than still pretend he could heal anything between them. “I didn’t tell you.”

“And that’s the problem, isn’t it?” Robby spits out.

Frank hadn’t just disappointed Robby, he’d betrayed him. He’d pushed the greatest man he’d known to his knees, he’d forced Robby’s hand to release the leash Frank had tied up in a bow around his throat. He’d taken everything Robby had to offer and then he’d had the gall to ask for more.

But in his dreams, Robby doesn’t kick him out of the hospital that night. He doesn’t kick him out of his life. In his dreams, Robby asks him why.

Why did you do it, Frank? dream-Robby holds his face gently, like Frank is made out of porcelain, like Frank, who is cold and cruel and callous and lashes out when he feels vulnerable, is something to be handled with care. And Frank tells him: on his knees, repentant and reverent all at once, Frank confesses all his sins and dream-Robby, a hallowed, blurred figure, holds him in despite of them.