[ Ethan sputters and sits up, leaning away from him despite the fact that he accepts the glass. He probably doesn't even realize it's the water glass at this point. ]
[ Yes, he is a grade A hypocrite, but surely Dorian knew this already. After a slight narrowing of his eyes, he tips his head back and empties the glass in a few gulps. Ethan stares up at him for a moment before biting back a laugh. ]
I can't tell if you're thinking about hitting me with that glass or not.
[ He reaches up and pants his cheek with a hand a few times, the other one eventually joining it so he can hold his face between his hands for a moment. The humor is still there but it quickly fades. ]
I wonder what life would have been like if I met someone like you earlier. Maybe we'd both be in a better place, Dorian.
[A soft, surprised laugh breaks through Dorian's irritation. Was that a compliment? It was optimistic to the point of delusion, but it did seem like an expression of appreciation for what he's doing. That makes this a little more bearable, face-touching notwithstanding.]
Unlikely. I was a lost cause a long time ago, my friend. [But he sees Ethan's point. This caretaking? He never does this. He is the very definition of a fair-weather friend. He has never had an attachment he couldn't cut loose when it no longer served him, and this, at this moment, does not serve him. But he doesn't want Ethan to hurt, or to hate himself like this.]
But perhaps, [he muses quietly.] Perhaps when we were young.
[ Ethan studies him in complete silence after his musings, holding onto his face perhaps a moment longer than necessary as he seems to be searching for something. A thumb brushes just beneath one of his eyes before he gives him his space back. ]
Would a lost cause be babysitting a grown man right now? I wonder. [ And he does wonder about it. Dorian is quick to remind him of how much of a lost cause he is but, when it came down to it, he was always there. Not just in this instance. ] I don't think you're as lost as you think you are.
It's not too late. [ He lays back down and rolls over, so he's facing him with his head resting atop of one of his arms on the arm of the couch. His eyes are getting heavy, but he's bound and determined to get this out. ] Not for you, not for me. Just have to find something worth changing for.
A lost cause might. [Dorian isn't doing this because he's a good person. He's doing it because he wants to keep Ethan. Does he care about Ethan? Yes, but he is practiced at becoming apathetic like he's flipping a switch. Whenever he wants to, he can stop caring. The only reason he hasn't flipped that switch is because he needs people, especially here. And because he still feels the reverberations of Lily leaving him, and facing his empty house alone once again. He doesn't want to be alone again. In that way, he feels like a bit of a hostage in this situation.
Say you meet that person, what is the first thing that comes to mind? Is it I want to protect them with my life or how long is it going to take for them to leave?
He isn't at Protect him with my life yet, but he does want to protect Ethan. Does that mean he could ever come back from all the lives he has destroyed without looking back? No. It just means this is one life he's trying not to destroy.]
I hope you do, Mr. Ethan Chandler, [is all he can say to that last, though he knows the truth. Ethan doesn't have the slightest idea how thick the ice is, how deep the darkness runs.]
[ The genuine curiosity has him shaking off his sleepy stupor in favor of studying Dorian's face a bit too carefully. The typical expression he wears, the boyish smile, feels more like a mask than anything else. Though they have spent more than a month together trapped here he, admittedly, is still at a loss when it comes to understanding him. Dorian Gray is a riddle he has yet to solve.
Something is there, hidden beneath the mask, and buried under hundreds of years of.. what exactly? Disappointment with the monotony of life? With people? The way he threw the glass against the wall when he called him out on his feelings spoke volumes, there's a lot more to this man than meets the eye and, whatever hand he's been dealt, he is keeping it close to his chest.
[ Throwing his phone away after this evening, when he realizes just how many of these texts he sent out. Three is three too many. He grunts when the pillow is positioned under his head, peering up at him curiously. ]
Right now? I couldn't quite say, ask me again in the morning.
[ Not that Dorian will be here then, though that is probably a good thing. He's likely going to get a lot of good use out of that trash can in the morning. The corner of his mouth twitches into a quick smile, eyes half-lidded before he eventually closes them and the smile fades. ]
[That's sweet. Ethan's a little too drunk to recognize when he's being playfully fished for compliments, but that's okay. Dorian doesn't need any, least of all after that smile.]
Sleep well, Ethan, [he says with real fondness, actually surprised at how his heart warms to the sight of Ethan drifting off in some degree of comfort. Dorian did that. Didn't he? Perhaps it's just the alcohol. Yes, it must be.]
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
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Drink.
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Says the one who said I'd had enough to drink.
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[What right does this man have to criticize Dorian's carelessness when he's so determined to destroy himself?]
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I can't tell if you're thinking about hitting me with that glass or not.
[ He reaches up and pants his cheek with a hand a few times, the other one eventually joining it so he can hold his face between his hands for a moment. The humor is still there but it quickly fades. ]
I wonder what life would have been like if I met someone like you earlier. Maybe we'd both be in a better place, Dorian.
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Unlikely. I was a lost cause a long time ago, my friend. [But he sees Ethan's point. This caretaking? He never does this. He is the very definition of a fair-weather friend. He has never had an attachment he couldn't cut loose when it no longer served him, and this, at this moment, does not serve him. But he doesn't want Ethan to hurt, or to hate himself like this.]
But perhaps, [he muses quietly.] Perhaps when we were young.
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Would a lost cause be babysitting a grown man right now? I wonder. [ And he does wonder about it. Dorian is quick to remind him of how much of a lost cause he is but, when it came down to it, he was always there. Not just in this instance. ] I don't think you're as lost as you think you are.
It's not too late. [ He lays back down and rolls over, so he's facing him with his head resting atop of one of his arms on the arm of the couch. His eyes are getting heavy, but he's bound and determined to get this out. ] Not for you, not for me. Just have to find something worth changing for.
I see you, Mr. Dorian Gray.
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Say you meet that person, what is the first thing that comes to mind? Is it I want to protect them with my life or how long is it going to take for them to leave?
He isn't at Protect him with my life yet, but he does want to protect Ethan. Does that mean he could ever come back from all the lives he has destroyed without looking back? No. It just means this is one life he's trying not to destroy.]
I hope you do, Mr. Ethan Chandler, [is all he can say to that last, though he knows the truth. Ethan doesn't have the slightest idea how thick the ice is, how deep the darkness runs.]
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[ The genuine curiosity has him shaking off his sleepy stupor in favor of studying Dorian's face a bit too carefully. The typical expression he wears, the boyish smile, feels more like a mask than anything else. Though they have spent more than a month together trapped here he, admittedly, is still at a loss when it comes to understanding him. Dorian Gray is a riddle he has yet to solve.
Something is there, hidden beneath the mask, and buried under hundreds of years of.. what exactly? Disappointment with the monotony of life? With people? The way he threw the glass against the wall when he called him out on his feelings spoke volumes, there's a lot more to this man than meets the eye and, whatever hand he's been dealt, he is keeping it close to his chest.
Sounds familiar. ]
I do. [ He squints. ] Two of you, in fact.
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And how do you find the sight? [He locates a throw pillow to tuck under Ethan's head and neck.]
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Right now? I couldn't quite say, ask me again in the morning.
[ Not that Dorian will be here then, though that is probably a good thing. He's likely going to get a lot of good use out of that trash can in the morning. The corner of his mouth twitches into a quick smile, eyes half-lidded before he eventually closes them and the smile fades. ]
Thanks, Dorian.
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Sleep well, Ethan, [he says with real fondness, actually surprised at how his heart warms to the sight of Ethan drifting off in some degree of comfort. Dorian did that. Didn't he? Perhaps it's just the alcohol. Yes, it must be.]