As the other spoke, Basil felt everything inside of himself crumple. He couldn’t do this. Not now, and not here, again. How many times had they had this argument? How many times had this spot been the root of it? Was there something in the ground that poisoned their senses when they treaded here? Why did his feet insist on circling back whenever he was upset? It wasn’t like this spot was calming, or particularly safe, or made him feel better in any way! Basil wanted to pull on his fringe and scream. Instead, he flinched. He flinched hard as the word ‘love’ dropped from the pretty redhead’s mouth. Lissington was smart enough to correct it, to taper back, but it was too late. Basil knew what he’d been about to say and it was the same nonsense as always. The chiding that followed certainly didn’t help either. Basil was the one who’d been apt enough to recognize his toxic behavioral patterns and stop them this time, to say something about them; having Lissington repeat it back to him only rubbed salt in an already raw, twelve-year old wound.
I don’t want you to stay! He wanted to snap. He almost did it too, if not for the energy it would take that Basil didn’t feel he had. Fighting, lashing out, was simply easier than trying to sort this out though. Especially now. The brunette pulled a deep draw from his cigarette as the silence lingered between them. He was never going to be the one to convince Lissington that he wanted… whatever the hell this was. Because Basil didn’t. He did… maybe, in the deepest, darkest, scariest parts of himself that were terrified of what it meant for his reality and had no sense of repercussion. But in his heart of hearts, he couldn’t push past the idea of Atticus hating him for it. Or mama hating him for it.
He was reminded then of the story Atticus had told him about Hanna. It had only been a couple of months and already it was coming back to haunt him. Atticus himself has chosen family over love, and he’d seemed… upset about it. Even after all this time. Had he regretted that decision? Probably. (Basil couldn’t see why he’d bring it up now out of the blue if he didn’t.) But the brunette was reminded particularly of his own gut reaction to the story. Instead of feeling apologetic, or… sad for his brother the way a normal person might, he’d felt justified. He wasn’t sorry for it either, even now. It had been the right choice to chose family over love. It was what Basil was trying to do now!
The sentiment that thought carried struck the brunette as he realized that for the first time, he’d actually admitted to himself he might… have anything more than natural, normal feelings for Lissington. That they might even carry a heavy implication of care, and adoration. Love. Instantly Basil felt like laughing. It was a sharp, derisive laugh that bubbled up and he bit it back only because he knew he’d look even more deranged if he didn’t. Too bad any sensitivity and ease got swallowed along with it.
Rounding on the redhead at last, fueled with the realization and the sting of his own thoughts, Basil narrowed grey hues at the other. “I don’t want to be your friend,” he finally said. “Gus, it aches to even sit next to you in the Great Hall.” Basil ran his fingers through his hair, desperation seeping from his pores. There wasn’t a sharpness to his words, more a sadness that made him even angrier. “I know you think you love me, and maybe - in some ridiculous way that goes against everything in this world - I love you too. But I’m trying to do the right thing. I’m trying to spare your feelings, and I’m trying to keep my family happy even if I can’t imagine a single woman on the face of this planet I could possibly marry. It’s only you. And I don’t want to keep hurting you, I don’t want to keep pretending we’re friends when we both know we can’t be. But I can’t win here.” He sucked in a deep breath realizing what it was he was about to say. Basil bit the words back, too scared to actually pull the trigger.
“I… I want need you in my life,” he said instead, taking a small step towards the other. “I just, I don’t see how we’re supposed to resolve this.” Basil stopped short and his voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t see… how we can be around one another, when all I ever want is to kiss you senseless. When the only things I can think about, especially when I’m unhappy and having a bad day, is what it feels like to forget about all of it with you.” Staring at the ground intently, Basil sighed. He certainly wasn’t about to make this easy on either of them, was he?
“If you want to pull back, I understand,” the brunette finally said at a normal volume. “I don’t… I don’t want that! But, frankly, I don’t really know what else we can do here.” He gave a weak little half-shrug. “I’m sorry you ever met me and that I ever made you feel the way you do. I’m sorry that I refused to acknowledge it back then, and honestly Gus—" Basil turned to meet blue hues with grey. “I wish I could just make it all go away.” Make myself, and my problems, all. go. away. "But I can't."
Gus Lissington & this theme song