I Wish My Enemy a Placid Love (Welcome to the Punch, Jacob Sternwood/Max Lewinsky, Guilt/shame, 15) 4/4
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“This isn’t unique, this is insane,” Max growls, not bothering to hold back his glare – he rises up slightly, muscles tensing and mouth resettling into an even firmer line, “I let you go, I let you take me, I let you lead us over several countries and a few continents besides, I let us both abandon everything that we’ve ever known for the sake only of each other. No celebrity, no friend, no stranger on the street has that story – and that’s because it’s utter and complete lunacy, and unhealthy, and abnormal.”
“Unique,” he says carefully, also trying his very hardest not to grit his teeth and bunch his fists and generally coil into a little ball of annoyance, “different, surprisingly smart considering the options open to us-“
“You ran away with the man who killed your son!” Max yells, finally rising up fully to grab his shoulders and try to shake him and-
“I ran away with the man who saved my life!” He snarls back, finally losing his own temper, and pushes the man down – the world seems to still for a long moment. Everything is quiet, Max’s bright blue eyes glinting up at him, “and tried to save my son’s life, and tried to save so many lives even as he lost so much along the way. You are sensible, you are healthy, you are the most fascinating thing that I know and will probably ever know. You’re the only person in the world that could ever understand me.”
There’s a pause.
A moment.
A long second between breaths.
“…And the only person that I would ever want to understand me,” he looks away from Max’s face, for something else to do – comes to rest on a random patch of wall instead, studies the darkness of it carefully to avoid thinking about all the dark little spots that he doesn’t want to enter his mind, “in truth.”
There’s a long pause before Max answers – and when he does, finally, his voice is just slightly shaky, “it’s not sane.”
“Neither are we.”
“It’s not healthy.”
“It’s the healthiest option open to us.”
“It’s not normal.”
“Who wants normal?” And he finally glances back, finally stares at a point just above Max’s eyes and takes a deep breath in and steels himself and- “who needs it? If we’re talking truthfully then the only thing that we really need is each other, and that’s a mutual abnormality that we might as well take advantage of for as long as possible.”
Max remains silent for a long few seconds.
Quiet.
Almost…
“I need a shower too,” thoughtful. As he dislodges his hands, pushes him back and rises to his feet with another quirk that’s somewhere near a smile, “and a little less philosophizing, and then a nice warm bed. You’re welcome to join me for any of those things, if you’re done with babbling in a way that makes little to no sense.”
He remains crouching for a second, smiling ruefully.
…He rises slowly to his feet, with a soft chuckle, and follows Max as he always will. Not quite at the speed of a cheetah, for they’re not that much alike, but fast enough that it hardly makes a single bit of difference.
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“This isn’t unique, this is insane,” Max growls, not bothering to hold back his glare – he rises up slightly, muscles tensing and mouth resettling into an even firmer line, “I let you go, I let you take me, I let you lead us over several countries and a few continents besides, I let us both abandon everything that we’ve ever known for the sake only of each other. No celebrity, no friend, no stranger on the street has that story – and that’s because it’s utter and complete lunacy, and unhealthy, and abnormal.”
“Unique,” he says carefully, also trying his very hardest not to grit his teeth and bunch his fists and generally coil into a little ball of annoyance, “different, surprisingly smart considering the options open to us-“
“You ran away with the man who killed your son!” Max yells, finally rising up fully to grab his shoulders and try to shake him and-
“I ran away with the man who saved my life!” He snarls back, finally losing his own temper, and pushes the man down – the world seems to still for a long moment. Everything is quiet, Max’s bright blue eyes glinting up at him, “and tried to save my son’s life, and tried to save so many lives even as he lost so much along the way. You are sensible, you are healthy, you are the most fascinating thing that I know and will probably ever know. You’re the only person in the world that could ever understand me.”
There’s a pause.
A moment.
A long second between breaths.
“…And the only person that I would ever want to understand me,” he looks away from Max’s face, for something else to do – comes to rest on a random patch of wall instead, studies the darkness of it carefully to avoid thinking about all the dark little spots that he doesn’t want to enter his mind, “in truth.”
There’s a long pause before Max answers – and when he does, finally, his voice is just slightly shaky, “it’s not sane.”
“Neither are we.”
“It’s not healthy.”
“It’s the healthiest option open to us.”
“It’s not normal.”
“Who wants normal?” And he finally glances back, finally stares at a point just above Max’s eyes and takes a deep breath in and steels himself and- “who needs it? If we’re talking truthfully then the only thing that we really need is each other, and that’s a mutual abnormality that we might as well take advantage of for as long as possible.”
Max remains silent for a long few seconds.
Quiet.
Almost…
“I need a shower too,” thoughtful. As he dislodges his hands, pushes him back and rises to his feet with another quirk that’s somewhere near a smile, “and a little less philosophizing, and then a nice warm bed. You’re welcome to join me for any of those things, if you’re done with babbling in a way that makes little to no sense.”
He remains crouching for a second, smiling ruefully.
…He rises slowly to his feet, with a soft chuckle, and follows Max as he always will. Not quite at the speed of a cheetah, for they’re not that much alike, but fast enough that it hardly makes a single bit of difference.