And there was the rejection. It was such a familiar pain and thing to have someone just close communication on Theo. People turned away, they walked away, they covered their mouths, or stood where he couldn't see. Most wouldn't even learn sign for him and instead forced him to struggle on a daily basis. But, Fletcher, who knew how important this was to Theo had turned his back and walked away from him mid-sentence.
He considered saying his words aloud but given that his lover's actions had been deliberately silencing, he decided against pushing the matter. Fletcher needed space and Theo would give it to him. He tried desperately too to not give into anxiety and despair, to not think the worst and that this was a sign that the other man was done with him. It was difficult but he held onto his promise not to and allowed his trust in Fletcher to overpower his own worry.
Theo still dragged himself out of bed and mindful of the fact that Fletcher would hear him if he paced or muttered, moved himself instead back out to the balcony. It still lingered with the smell of smoke and for a moment he looked to Fletcher's window to see if more came from his room. But it was vacant. With some bitter sadness he wondered if the other man was drinking now and it was entirely his fault this time.
He stared down over the railing. A tiny fantasy of leaping off and into the tree beside it then running away flashed within his mind. Its appearance startled him. It had been a very, very long time since he had considered such things but it had never been from love he had been wanting to run from. So why now?
Movement below caught his eye and he realized Barty had spotted him. He waved back at the man eyeing him and then retreated back into his room. Pretty songbirds like him belonged in their gilded cages safe from the wilds of the real woods. He'd never survive out there. Not even Fletcher believed he could rough it for long. His eyes dragged back towards the other man's door. He wanted to burst in and pounce, to brandish apologies on a silver platter and demand an embrace. But as greedy as he was, that was going too far and even stupid pretty boy that he was, he knew that.
He settled into a chair and stared as the flames died down and dawn crept back through his window. How many more nights were going to start lovely and end in heartbreak like this? Were they just ill-fitted? Was Theo forcing something on Fletcher that the other man was all too eager to go along with because he didn't know better and was just that desperate?
For once, Theo dreaded what the morning would bring. He felt terrible, looked worse, and was too afraid that he'd be receiving a cold look from Fletcher instead of the warmth he craved. He did write a letter though begging off having Edwina come over, feigning a headache and begged one of the guards to switch with Neal so that he didn't have to face the man's scrutiny when he was already feeling like dirt under a farmer's boot.
Instead of returning to his chair by the fire, he dragged it out onto the balcony along with a throw blanket. At least the cool air would help keep him awake and didn't require him to get caught and yelled at for being in the yard by his mother whose nerves would likely suffer a fright over her baby boy risking getting sick in the "frigid" temperatures. All he wanted was peace, and perhaps a bit of punishment for having ruined things again. It would serve him right if he caught a cold. Maybe then he wouldn't have to face the world for a few weeks.
He considered saying his words aloud but given that his lover's actions had been deliberately silencing, he decided against pushing the matter. Fletcher needed space and Theo would give it to him. He tried desperately too to not give into anxiety and despair, to not think the worst and that this was a sign that the other man was done with him. It was difficult but he held onto his promise not to and allowed his trust in Fletcher to overpower his own worry.
Theo still dragged himself out of bed and mindful of the fact that Fletcher would hear him if he paced or muttered, moved himself instead back out to the balcony. It still lingered with the smell of smoke and for a moment he looked to Fletcher's window to see if more came from his room. But it was vacant. With some bitter sadness he wondered if the other man was drinking now and it was entirely his fault this time.
He stared down over the railing. A tiny fantasy of leaping off and into the tree beside it then running away flashed within his mind. Its appearance startled him. It had been a very, very long time since he had considered such things but it had never been from love he had been wanting to run from. So why now?
Movement below caught his eye and he realized Barty had spotted him. He waved back at the man eyeing him and then retreated back into his room. Pretty songbirds like him belonged in their gilded cages safe from the wilds of the real woods. He'd never survive out there. Not even Fletcher believed he could rough it for long. His eyes dragged back towards the other man's door. He wanted to burst in and pounce, to brandish apologies on a silver platter and demand an embrace. But as greedy as he was, that was going too far and even stupid pretty boy that he was, he knew that.
He settled into a chair and stared as the flames died down and dawn crept back through his window. How many more nights were going to start lovely and end in heartbreak like this? Were they just ill-fitted? Was Theo forcing something on Fletcher that the other man was all too eager to go along with because he didn't know better and was just that desperate?
For once, Theo dreaded what the morning would bring. He felt terrible, looked worse, and was too afraid that he'd be receiving a cold look from Fletcher instead of the warmth he craved. He did write a letter though begging off having Edwina come over, feigning a headache and begged one of the guards to switch with Neal so that he didn't have to face the man's scrutiny when he was already feeling like dirt under a farmer's boot.
Instead of returning to his chair by the fire, he dragged it out onto the balcony along with a throw blanket. At least the cool air would help keep him awake and didn't require him to get caught and yelled at for being in the yard by his mother whose nerves would likely suffer a fright over her baby boy risking getting sick in the "frigid" temperatures. All he wanted was peace, and perhaps a bit of punishment for having ruined things again. It would serve him right if he caught a cold. Maybe then he wouldn't have to face the world for a few weeks.