@madnessresideshere cont.
Hartley gasped slightly, shuddering as the temperature suddenly dropped, chilling the air around him and shocking his overheated body slightly. He made a whining sound as he was pushed away, but didn’t fight it. The other didn’t want to be touched by him...
Realizing somewhere in the back of his drunk mind that he was not being fair, he felt a wave of guilt wash over him, and he ducked his head, staring at Bobby’s shirt. Looking completely dejected, he sat there for a moment, half-formed drunken thoughts spinning around in his head.
He hadn’t felt so happy in such a long time since becoming... closer with the icy mutant. He wasn’t sure if what they had was friendship, exactly; but it was the closest thing to it he could ever recall having. More than that...
... he’d caught himself wanting to be close to the other, craving to touch or be touched; something he hadn’t felt since Chip’s death. It scared him, and yet... the feeling of closeness? He found himself craving it. “I... I don’t hate you...” he slurred, mumbling mostly to himself.
The worst part, though... was the guilt. How could he be happy? How could he allow himself that, with Chip gone? How could he- he reach out for another and want to be held? That was Chip’s place- it always had been. Chip was supposed to be his only friend, his lover, his... his husband...
Guilt swarmed his drunken mind, overwhelming him, and before Hartley knew it, tears were slipping from his eyelashes, landing on Bobby’s shirt. “I want to,” he spoke in a shaky, quiet voice, not looking up. “I want to hate you. I want to... to hate everyone...”
Realizing how terrible he felt, and how awful he was being to Bobby, Hartley moved to stand, stumbling. “S... sorry, I... I’m gonna head to the tent... I just...” His voice cracked as he turned to stumble away. “I need to lay down.”