( that stings — just enough to get his shoulders dropping and to have eggsy admitting (temporary) defeat. )
Can you just, ( he tries again, gesturing loosely with the apple. ) Please, please tell me if 'n when something's not right with you? If you need a, a doctor, or a cottonball, or a stupid fucking knock knock joke. Please, and I'll be here.
[Harry considers him for a moment. Christ, he's not making this easy. He cares deeply about Eggsy, cares beyond his being the subject of a debt that must be repaid to his father, but hand in hand with that is the fact that he can't stand the idea of the boy wasting time and emotional fuel on him.]
If I need anything, Eggsy, I'll tell you. You have my word. But I think we both know what isn't right.
[Harry Hart is dead. The world they will someday return to has no future for him beyond a marble marker and a dispassionate inch-long obituary, referring to his career in Savile Row and the fact that he is survived by neither wife nor children. That Eggsy is so worried for his welfare is -- touching, truly, but it smacks of tragic redundancy.]
( well, suck it up, harry, because eggsy's got emotional fuel to spare and a deepseeded respect for personal boundaries and militant professionalism with superior officers that was a little cracked the first time harry hugged him.
he raises his chin, keeps a strong line of composure around the mouth, but there's something deeply pained around his eyes and he's already in harry's personal space, more or less. it's no big exertion to reach out an arm and carefully avoid any visible splotches of blood when wrapping harry into a quick, tight squeeze.
it's something of a selfish gesture. no, this isn't right. on top of everything else — the explosives, the kidnapping, and the containment — the only one that would matter in the long run, if and when they got out, was that harry hart was dead in the real world. it'd been disconcerting to see two "ghosts" of the same man, at the same time. it was upsetting to think he'd see neither if they did get out, and eggsy really wants to get out.
so for now he takes the time to reassure himself that at least one of the ghosts is solid. )
[Harry stays deathly still. When he hugged Eggsy on that first day
at the hotel it was out of relief, out of gratitude and pure fucking
joy for the second chance he'd been granted - the chance to see to
it that the last conversation they ever had wouldn't be filled with
disappointment and bitter recrimination.
Right now is characterised by the fact that the wounds he'd
been nursing at the time haven't healed; they've just sunk under his skin
and started to fester.
Eventually, and not without regret, he puts a hand to Eggsy's
shoulder. He doesn't push him away but it's definitely a gesture that says
that's enough of that.]
( it's not the nicest hug. it's stiff on harry's end, and eggsy can feel that in his shoulders, but that just makes him want to cling all the harder — until the other man gets it, and until the contact does something to alleviate the gnawing unhappiness in his chest. he considers ignoring the tap out.
but (that's a dick move and) eggsy draws back. puts a comfortable foot between them, and raises his chin like he's ready to endure reprimand or dismissal — yes, i did that and it didn't work. he keeps his jaw tight, and thanks some higher power that his face is dry and his breathing is steady. )
( he's not going to eat the apple. he's going to give it to raven reyes in a misguided attempt to make a point about suffering together. but no reason to make that apparent when harry could still make him sit and outright watch him eat. )
and like that he's dismissed. eggsy still loiters for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but the escape to the hallway is some sort of blessed relief. now he can go yell at merlin but, like, while lying down. exerting less of his meger energy reserves. )
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action
Can you just, ( he tries again, gesturing loosely with the apple. ) Please, please tell me if 'n when something's not right with you? If you need a, a doctor, or a cottonball, or a stupid fucking knock knock joke. Please, and I'll be here.
action
If I need anything, Eggsy, I'll tell you. You have my word. But I think we both know what isn't right.
[Harry Hart is dead. The world they will someday return to has no future for him beyond a marble marker and a dispassionate inch-long obituary, referring to his career in Savile Row and the fact that he is survived by neither wife nor children. That Eggsy is so worried for his welfare is -- touching, truly, but it smacks of tragic redundancy.]
action
he raises his chin, keeps a strong line of composure around the mouth, but there's something deeply pained around his eyes and he's already in harry's personal space, more or less. it's no big exertion to reach out an arm and carefully avoid any visible splotches of blood when wrapping harry into a quick, tight squeeze.
it's something of a selfish gesture. no, this isn't right. on top of everything else — the explosives, the kidnapping, and the containment — the only one that would matter in the long run, if and when they got out, was that harry hart was dead in the real world. it'd been disconcerting to see two "ghosts" of the same man, at the same time. it was upsetting to think he'd see neither if they did get out, and eggsy really wants to get out.
so for now he takes the time to reassure himself that at least one of the ghosts is solid. )
action
[Harry stays deathly still. When he hugged Eggsy on that first day at the hotel it was out of relief, out of gratitude and pure fucking joy for the second chance he'd been granted - the chance to see to it that the last conversation they ever had wouldn't be filled with disappointment and bitter recrimination.
Right now is characterised by the fact that the wounds he'd been nursing at the time haven't healed; they've just sunk under his skin and started to fester.
Eventually, and not without regret, he puts a hand to Eggsy's shoulder. He doesn't push him away but it's definitely a gesture that says that's enough of that.]
action
but (that's a dick move and) eggsy draws back. puts a comfortable foot between them, and raises his chin like he's ready to endure reprimand or dismissal — yes, i did that and it didn't work. he keeps his jaw tight, and thanks some higher power that his face is dry and his breathing is steady. )
action
The touch to his shoulder becomes a gentle squeeze. It's about as much affection as he can manage, right now.]
Please, Eggsy, eat. And - do torment a few more people with your terrible knock-knock jokes, won't you?
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They're genius, thanks.
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[That earns a small, tight smile.]
Quite. I'll...
[He touches a hand to his collar. His standards haven't dropped so low that he's comfortable wandering the hotel in bloodspotted clothes.]
I ought to clean up a little better. I'll see you later, Eggsy.
action
mutinouslyand like that he's dismissed. eggsy still loiters for a moment, shifting his weight from foot to foot, but the escape to the hallway is some sort of blessed relief. now he can go yell at merlin but, like, while lying down. exerting less of his meger energy reserves. )