“Don’t expect me to argue with that,” Ari answered with a laugh, rather certain Ben would not be offended to be considered trouble. Trouble was a little of an understatement, but even tallying up the extent of it - from having to patch him up time after time to having to re-stitch together all the memories that made him him for him, to the endless trouble of loving him at all - could not make his friendship with Ben ever a burden; Ari had always been willing to help. Ari had brought it all upon himself.
He had brought this upon himself, too. Perhaps Ben's attraction to trouble had rubbed off on him over the years; maybe Ari was really the one with the problem here, because a) if Ben was trouble, b) Ari was still horrendously attracted to him, and c) in general, trying to help people should not, probably, lead to quite so complicated a life as this.
“But no, it's nothing bad,” Ari assured him, though he could presently think of nothing worse. It was only what came from being around Ben, really, a burning in the base of his gut that warped and ate through all other feeling. It had been unbearable once - he had been so desperate to be rid of it - but now he knew better, thought he had learned to live with the flames. Because: no matter how furiously he threw all his doubts on the fire - things that stung of the truth; things like you know he'll never love you; remember last time; do you want him to hate you again? - the flames devoured them like kindling, and only sparked up more wild, irrational, impossible hopes in him. By now Ari didn't know what else he could possibly do. The fire just wouldn't die.
“It’s good news, in fact,” Ari said, eyes trained on Ben but privately rather relieved his friend seemed too preoccupied with refilling his drink to watch him too closely in return. For half a moment, Ari thought Ben looked a little too preoccupied - but Ari was only projecting his own nerves across the room, that was it. It was stupid, to be nervous about this. Ben would - well, he would make fun of him, probably, but he would still take it better than most people had, and just be happy for him. Because it would mean nothing to Ben, would make no difference to his life, because he was clearly not being burnt alive on a daily basis by some ridiculous unrequited love.
At least he didn't remember Ari's confession. He may actually believe the Miss Tweedy thing, this way. “Really good news. I'm - well, I'm getting married.”
He had brought this upon himself, too. Perhaps Ben's attraction to trouble had rubbed off on him over the years; maybe Ari was really the one with the problem here, because a) if Ben was trouble, b) Ari was still horrendously attracted to him, and c) in general, trying to help people should not, probably, lead to quite so complicated a life as this.
“But no, it's nothing bad,” Ari assured him, though he could presently think of nothing worse. It was only what came from being around Ben, really, a burning in the base of his gut that warped and ate through all other feeling. It had been unbearable once - he had been so desperate to be rid of it - but now he knew better, thought he had learned to live with the flames. Because: no matter how furiously he threw all his doubts on the fire - things that stung of the truth; things like you know he'll never love you; remember last time; do you want him to hate you again? - the flames devoured them like kindling, and only sparked up more wild, irrational, impossible hopes in him. By now Ari didn't know what else he could possibly do. The fire just wouldn't die.
“It’s good news, in fact,” Ari said, eyes trained on Ben but privately rather relieved his friend seemed too preoccupied with refilling his drink to watch him too closely in return. For half a moment, Ari thought Ben looked a little too preoccupied - but Ari was only projecting his own nerves across the room, that was it. It was stupid, to be nervous about this. Ben would - well, he would make fun of him, probably, but he would still take it better than most people had, and just be happy for him. Because it would mean nothing to Ben, would make no difference to his life, because he was clearly not being burnt alive on a daily basis by some ridiculous unrequited love.
At least he didn't remember Ari's confession. He may actually believe the Miss Tweedy thing, this way. “Really good news. I'm - well, I'm getting married.”
