For all that he believed that he was the one acting outside the norm, hearing her ramble about her feelings made it obvious that this meeting—and the series of letters before it—had changed them and their feelings towards each other. Her works were in stark contrast to the sort of words he thought he'd be hearing after taking on Miss February Lynch as a sort of lover. It was all meant to be casual, but it was clear it was more than that now.
(But was it ever casual? Being truly casual would have meant that many of their early arguments would never have happened, and neither would some of the pissy arguments they'd have through letters. Being casual would have meant being able to sleep with a whore without moaning her name, just as it would meant feeling little jealousy at the notion of her simply flirting with another gentleman. Had this always been more than casual?)
"I want that, too," he breathed. "I'm not a man who ponders simply to do so, and especially not with a woman I've known for such a short time. You must know I care deeply for you."
He couldn't manage to get the word love out of his mouth, similarly how he'd had difficulty getting his hand to write the word marriage. To some it would seem like a symptom of commitment issues, but it was far from; he wanted commitment and he wanted to give it without holding back, but an admission of his feelings gave her the power to use that against him. Even if she was so willing to be his wife today... did that matter?
"But." His hands found the sides of his face once more, his thumbs brushing gently over her brows. "I need to tell you that I'm not supposed to be seen with you—not publicly," he whispered, searching her eyes for any immediate distress. "The public needs total confidence in me right now; the community's in chaos and I'm an unfamiliar face. We need to stay quiet and stay private until things settle down."
He then continued. "That's why I'm so anxious about the notion of being caught. I could lose my job—not because of you, but because of insubordination. But I can't give you up, either."
(But was it ever casual? Being truly casual would have meant that many of their early arguments would never have happened, and neither would some of the pissy arguments they'd have through letters. Being casual would have meant being able to sleep with a whore without moaning her name, just as it would meant feeling little jealousy at the notion of her simply flirting with another gentleman. Had this always been more than casual?)
"I want that, too," he breathed. "I'm not a man who ponders simply to do so, and especially not with a woman I've known for such a short time. You must know I care deeply for you."
He couldn't manage to get the word love out of his mouth, similarly how he'd had difficulty getting his hand to write the word marriage. To some it would seem like a symptom of commitment issues, but it was far from; he wanted commitment and he wanted to give it without holding back, but an admission of his feelings gave her the power to use that against him. Even if she was so willing to be his wife today... did that matter?
"But." His hands found the sides of his face once more, his thumbs brushing gently over her brows. "I need to tell you that I'm not supposed to be seen with you—not publicly," he whispered, searching her eyes for any immediate distress. "The public needs total confidence in me right now; the community's in chaos and I'm an unfamiliar face. We need to stay quiet and stay private until things settle down."
He then continued. "That's why I'm so anxious about the notion of being caught. I could lose my job—not because of you, but because of insubordination. But I can't give you up, either."
— set by MJ! —