[Everything about this feels so... untested. Shaky. Because it is-- and also isn't. He never tried this because there was never any need to. No person, regardless of how deeply he cared for them or how they tried to convince him, were enough to overcome marriage just being another thing to lose when people die-- a thing people do because they think they have to, or because they have the naively romantic idea that it brings happiness simply in having it. He's known that isn't true since he met Harry. Since he watched, and couldn't forget, countless forms of commitment and marriages fall apart before his eyes over the years.
Harry. Toby just has to put this in terms of not letting a dead, beloved and hated, friend continue to rule his life, doesn't he? He balks at the idea, of course, because it's... true. And he can't deny it. He allowed this, and then once the man died, and he thought himself truly his own person, he kept right on looking for pieces to fit into the old pattern. To prove Harry right.
It's not the way he wants to be. Not for Lucifer, not for Harry, not for anyone. This is his life, and after all the abuse over the years, he will live his life on his terms. He can be anything his wants, and make of his life exactly what he wants. He decided that again on the shores of Whitby, and it's not a decision he's going back on now.
As Toby looks into his eyes and touches his face, and the man tells him that this isn't going to change them, but only be... something new to try? Absurdly, in the same way it always feels absurd when Toby hopes for something bright, and hopeful between them where he can't see it, himself ... he believes it. Just for a moment.
Damn this persuasive man who knows him all too well, and loves him unconditionally.
When the vampire pulls away, Dorian draws a breath to compose himself, and throws back a generous amount of the drink Toby pressed into his hand. Fuck him. Is he honestly thinking of going for this?
He supposes he is. For the sake of what Toby sees between them, and what he himself really, actually wants to be true.]
God. [Dorian wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, savouring the mild distraction of the burn in the back of his throat. It helps stave off how terrifying this all is.] You had a lot of time to think about all this, didn't you? [He's not mocking - it's genuinely flooring, and he's overwhelmed.
Working to try and compose himself, Dorian takes another sip of his drink. He'll need more, soon.]
You're right. [He laughs softly, hollowly, in disbelief.] All this time I've been telling myself that I make my own self, my own life, but all I've been is a piece of someone else's music. For years. [It hurts to say. He hates it. It's unfair that it's been this way because he was young and foolish, and didn't know any better at the time, and then didn't think to try and know any better.] I've been playing the same tune since I heard it at 19.
Do you know what I told Lucifer at Whitby? When he told me to die? [It's a rhetorical question, because Toby must know, even if he doesn't remember telling the man. He would have.] When I met him, I was prepared. I rehearsed what I wanted to say before I surrendered everything to him. [He exhales.] But he told me to die, and as soon as he did, I knew I didn't want to.
I'm not anyone's-- puppet. [Not anymore. Not for another single fucking person, fallen angel, god, anyone. Raising his glass again, Dorian finishes off the last of his drink, and then puts it down onto the nearest surface with a loud clatter.]
So fuck him. Fuck him and Harry. Let's make another choice for ourselves, because you think there's everything to gain. [And, for a shred of a moment, Toby made him believe it, too.] Let's do it.
no subject
Harry. Toby just has to put this in terms of not letting a dead, beloved and hated, friend continue to rule his life, doesn't he? He balks at the idea, of course, because it's... true. And he can't deny it. He allowed this, and then once the man died, and he thought himself truly his own person, he kept right on looking for pieces to fit into the old pattern. To prove Harry right.
It's not the way he wants to be. Not for Lucifer, not for Harry, not for anyone. This is his life, and after all the abuse over the years, he will live his life on his terms. He can be anything his wants, and make of his life exactly what he wants. He decided that again on the shores of Whitby, and it's not a decision he's going back on now.
As Toby looks into his eyes and touches his face, and the man tells him that this isn't going to change them, but only be... something new to try? Absurdly, in the same way it always feels absurd when Toby hopes for something bright, and hopeful between them where he can't see it, himself ... he believes it. Just for a moment.
Damn this persuasive man who knows him all too well, and loves him unconditionally.
When the vampire pulls away, Dorian draws a breath to compose himself, and throws back a generous amount of the drink Toby pressed into his hand. Fuck him. Is he honestly thinking of going for this?
He supposes he is. For the sake of what Toby sees between them, and what he himself really, actually wants to be true.]
God. [Dorian wipes at his mouth with the back of his hand, savouring the mild distraction of the burn in the back of his throat. It helps stave off how terrifying this all is.] You had a lot of time to think about all this, didn't you? [He's not mocking - it's genuinely flooring, and he's overwhelmed.
Working to try and compose himself, Dorian takes another sip of his drink. He'll need more, soon.]
You're right. [He laughs softly, hollowly, in disbelief.] All this time I've been telling myself that I make my own self, my own life, but all I've been is a piece of someone else's music. For years. [It hurts to say. He hates it. It's unfair that it's been this way because he was young and foolish, and didn't know any better at the time, and then didn't think to try and know any better.] I've been playing the same tune since I heard it at 19.
Do you know what I told Lucifer at Whitby? When he told me to die? [It's a rhetorical question, because Toby must know, even if he doesn't remember telling the man. He would have.] When I met him, I was prepared. I rehearsed what I wanted to say before I surrendered everything to him. [He exhales.] But he told me to die, and as soon as he did, I knew I didn't want to.
I'm not anyone's-- puppet. [Not anymore. Not for another single fucking person, fallen angel, god, anyone. Raising his glass again, Dorian finishes off the last of his drink, and then puts it down onto the nearest surface with a loud clatter.]
So fuck him. Fuck him and Harry. Let's make another choice for ourselves, because you think there's everything to gain. [And, for a shred of a moment, Toby made him believe it, too.] Let's do it.