selfmedicatingmayor:
the-perfect-scientist :
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Carlos’ heart lurched and he felt himself begin to panic
again. Hancock was disappointed, and in his fragile emotional state this was devastating to Carlos. Am I ever going to stop fucking up? Apparently
not because he didn’t even need to say a word to hurt people he cared about!
He hadn’t been speaking because he didn’t want to cry again.
But his eyes and nose burned anyway with oncoming tears as he silently began to
berate himself anew. What is wrong with
me? No, really, what the FUCK is wrong with me?? Why the hell am I even
here – what on Earth made me think it was okay to stay here in the first
place!?
Carlos tried to keep himself together. He swallowed around
the painful lump in this throat and squeezed his eyes shut for a moment to
clear out the tears. He sniffed and kept trying to wash Hancock’s back as
steady as he could.
He didn’t deserve Hancock. Carlos had been stuck in a vault
for too long and he clearly wasn’t cut out for relationships – much less one
with a ghoul, if Carlos was just going to be an ass and not be okay with things. He… God. He was just garbage.
Carlos stopped washing Hancock. The hand holding the
washcloth dropped into the water and the other hand left Hancock’s shoulder to
cover Carlos’ face. The tears wouldn’t stop and his throat hurt from the
tightness of him trying to hold back the noise that wanted to come out. He wasn’t
going to do this in a bathtub… please, God, don’t let him do this in a bathtub
with Hancock right there!