[God, but he's so fucking angry. Not at Stede. At whatever or whoever made him feel this way. At the asshole who, tonight, reaffirmed those feelings. He doesn't know how to bite it down, how to make it manageable- but it doesn't matter, in the end, because as Stede finishes talking, it rushes out of him and leaves him hollow with hurt.
There's so much he loves in Stede, admires- the bravery it took to start a new life, his compassion for his crew, every part of him that is unapologetically delicate, and those that are entirely unremitting. Fierce and clever and soft in a finely dressed, beautiful package.
But the doubt that floods from Stede could sink their little dinghy, and Ed considers whether or not he needs a fucking magnifying glass permanently glued to his face, if he's missing things this big about the person he wants to know best. Claims, if just to himself at this point, to love. Unapologetically, he's realizing at this point, may be closer from Stede's point of view to inescapably.
Stede talks like he thinks he's ruined Ed's life, like everything Ed's let go of was precious goods, and not weight he was so glad to unpack. A plague, but Ed doesn't feel sick. He feels like he was the blight, a rot that could have spread through Stede's veins, and instead Stede cleaned him out. Head to toe. Right down to his soul.]
Don't say that shit. You're the best thing in my life. One of the only good-
[It's not what he wants to say. Ed swallows and tries again. ]
I can't speak for your family. I can't speak for the crew, either- sidebar though, we both heard them fucking vouch for you, and pirates don't do that shit for someone who doesn't deserve it. Anyway, I can speak for myself, so just listen to me.
[ Ed leans forward and tries to duck his face low enough to catch Stede's eyes again, even when he's trying to avoid it. Then he gives up worrying about being subtle because they're so fucking far past this right now, and instead reaches out to grasp Stede's chin and tilt his face towards Ed's.]
I had fucking nothing, before you. Nothing I actually cared about. And if you think that me caring about you is some awful thing and you don't want it, that's fine. [His mouth quivers in a way that suggests it's decidedly not fine.] But you don't get to decide how I feel about it. I didn't give up anything I wouldn't happily get the fuck rid of a hundred more times over. You're what I want.
[He adds, in a desperate last ditch attempt to draw attention away from the thinning thread of his voice and bring some fucking levity to it all,]
You're not a plague. Can't even fold your own socks.
no subject
There's so much he loves in Stede, admires- the bravery it took to start a new life, his compassion for his crew, every part of him that is unapologetically delicate, and those that are entirely unremitting. Fierce and clever and soft in a finely dressed, beautiful package.
But the doubt that floods from Stede could sink their little dinghy, and Ed considers whether or not he needs a fucking magnifying glass permanently glued to his face, if he's missing things this big about the person he wants to know best. Claims, if just to himself at this point, to love. Unapologetically, he's realizing at this point, may be closer from Stede's point of view to inescapably.
Stede talks like he thinks he's ruined Ed's life, like everything Ed's let go of was precious goods, and not weight he was so glad to unpack. A plague, but Ed doesn't feel sick. He feels like he was the blight, a rot that could have spread through Stede's veins, and instead Stede cleaned him out. Head to toe. Right down to his soul.]
Don't say that shit. You're the best thing in my life. One of the only good-
[It's not what he wants to say. Ed swallows and tries again. ]
I can't speak for your family. I can't speak for the crew, either- sidebar though, we both heard them fucking vouch for you, and pirates don't do that shit for someone who doesn't deserve it. Anyway, I can speak for myself, so just listen to me.
[ Ed leans forward and tries to duck his face low enough to catch Stede's eyes again, even when he's trying to avoid it. Then he gives up worrying about being subtle because they're so fucking far past this right now, and instead reaches out to grasp Stede's chin and tilt his face towards Ed's.]
I had fucking nothing, before you. Nothing I actually cared about. And if you think that me caring about you is some awful thing and you don't want it, that's fine. [His mouth quivers in a way that suggests it's decidedly not fine.] But you don't get to decide how I feel about it. I didn't give up anything I wouldn't happily get the fuck rid of a hundred more times over. You're what I want.
[He adds, in a desperate last ditch attempt to draw attention away from the thinning thread of his voice and bring some fucking levity to it all,]
You're not a plague. Can't even fold your own socks.