That Eduardo manages to keep his expression from changing is something he's unbelievably relieved for. It's a stupid thing (Christ, what about this isn't?) when he's the one who made the offer, but that doesn't mean Mark accepting it is what he wants to hear. He was hoping to get something along the lines of no, of course I want you to show me around, but as is far from uncommon with Mark, he's wished for too much. At least he can be glad, though, that he had the foresight to say what he did, to not expect Mark to really want to spend that much time with him; after all, Mark did write him out of his life. If this stings, he can't imagine how much more it would hurt to have only offered for himself and have Mark turn him down. Maybe that's what he should want, but he doesn't. In the end, he wants what he always did: Mark.
"Oh," he says, then nods, buying himself a moment's time to collect his thoughts. He said it wouldn't bother him, and he means to not let it, if only because he doesn't want to know what Mark would say if it did. This can be easy. It's only in his head that it isn't, and he means to keep it that way. "Alright. I'll find someone, then, tomorrow." He pauses, lets out an exhale of a laugh, self-deprecating. "Probably a good idea for you to know someone else, anyway. No reason for you to have to hang around with me all the time, right?"
It is, of course, what he'd prefer -- even at his own mention of Mark branching out, the sort of thing he's always encouraged, he still feels a stab of jealousy that he can't help -- but it accomplishes absolutely nothing to tell Mark that. They're friends again, yes, there's no other word for it, but Mark isn't his; he can't pretend he has any claim on his time or attention when Mark is the one who got rid of him. The reminder of that sinks heavy in his stomach, and maybe, he thinks, maybe this really is a good thing. If there's someone else, a buffer, some distance between Mark and himself so he isn't the one Mark turns to, he'll probably wind up less hurt for it, right?
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Date: 2011-06-24 10:37 am (UTC)"Oh," he says, then nods, buying himself a moment's time to collect his thoughts. He said it wouldn't bother him, and he means to not let it, if only because he doesn't want to know what Mark would say if it did. This can be easy. It's only in his head that it isn't, and he means to keep it that way. "Alright. I'll find someone, then, tomorrow." He pauses, lets out an exhale of a laugh, self-deprecating. "Probably a good idea for you to know someone else, anyway. No reason for you to have to hang around with me all the time, right?"
It is, of course, what he'd prefer -- even at his own mention of Mark branching out, the sort of thing he's always encouraged, he still feels a stab of jealousy that he can't help -- but it accomplishes absolutely nothing to tell Mark that. They're friends again, yes, there's no other word for it, but Mark isn't his; he can't pretend he has any claim on his time or attention when Mark is the one who got rid of him. The reminder of that sinks heavy in his stomach, and maybe, he thinks, maybe this really is a good thing. If there's someone else, a buffer, some distance between Mark and himself so he isn't the one Mark turns to, he'll probably wind up less hurt for it, right?
He doesn't know who he's trying to kid.