[ Piece by piece, Dom's expression falters, staring at Teddie in a way that makes him look young and vulnerable. He doesn't want to hear this — he wants to be with him, but to do that he has to acknowledge what they had and how bad it was. The urge to cover Teddie's mouth curls fingers into his palms instead, nostrils flared, brows knitted. ]
You're not worried we'll fight again?
[ The fineprint: that we'll be drunk and high and do something really stupid to each other? ]
no subject
You're not worried we'll fight again?
[ The fineprint: that we'll be drunk and high and do something really stupid to each other? ]