No, it wasn’t a no.
“I’m - not fucking doing this,” Ishmael barked suddenly. With either of them. He couldn’t have a real discussion with Galina when Azazel was perching up there as a smug, jeering audience to this, and he couldn’t have a real discussion with Galina if all she was going to do was obfuscate or - admit it like that, so gently and so cryptically that he was going to have to tear her apart with his bare hands to find the whole story in it, to find her reasons.
And he - did feel like he could tear something apart, right now, felt a surge of something implacable. Rage, or hurt, or some long-stifled, savage sorrow.
She’d been to New York. And if it had been her, she’d - been there, and then she’d left him; and if she had done it, then by omission she had lied to him as long as he’d known her here, as if he was stupid, as if he was not worth telling. He had always been close to honest with her, more open than he was with most people. Abruptly, Ishmael found he couldn’t meet her eye. And leaving too soon, washing her hands of him... that was not unlike what he had done to Azazel, so he could not meet her eye right now either, feeling the way he felt.
No, he didn’t want to talk to either of them. “Just - get lost, both of you,” he bit out, grinding his teeth. Never mind that he’d said that, or that Galina had just returned, or leaving Azazel and Galina alone together was never a good idea - Ishmael was too impatient and his head was reeling and he couldn’t be here until he had some self-composure again; so instead he stormed off out towards the forest, happy to leave the caverns behind tonight.
Ugh. Women.
“I’m - not fucking doing this,” Ishmael barked suddenly. With either of them. He couldn’t have a real discussion with Galina when Azazel was perching up there as a smug, jeering audience to this, and he couldn’t have a real discussion with Galina if all she was going to do was obfuscate or - admit it like that, so gently and so cryptically that he was going to have to tear her apart with his bare hands to find the whole story in it, to find her reasons.
And he - did feel like he could tear something apart, right now, felt a surge of something implacable. Rage, or hurt, or some long-stifled, savage sorrow.
She’d been to New York. And if it had been her, she’d - been there, and then she’d left him; and if she had done it, then by omission she had lied to him as long as he’d known her here, as if he was stupid, as if he was not worth telling. He had always been close to honest with her, more open than he was with most people. Abruptly, Ishmael found he couldn’t meet her eye. And leaving too soon, washing her hands of him... that was not unlike what he had done to Azazel, so he could not meet her eye right now either, feeling the way he felt.
No, he didn’t want to talk to either of them. “Just - get lost, both of you,” he bit out, grinding his teeth. Never mind that he’d said that, or that Galina had just returned, or leaving Azazel and Galina alone together was never a good idea - Ishmael was too impatient and his head was reeling and he couldn’t be here until he had some self-composure again; so instead he stormed off out towards the forest, happy to leave the caverns behind tonight.
Ugh. Women.
