With Faye he often feels like they take a step forward together only to find themselves right back where they started, if not having lost ground. But he's tired of that: this door is open and his foot's firmly planted to keep it from closing unexpectedly.
This turn of events is really pleasing. Mind racing, he thinks to all the possibilities that can spring from this, including where they go next and how they go about it. He starts visualizing things and then... these four little words creep into the back of his consciousness and they're so soft he almost doesn't hear them at first, but they get louder and louder until he just can't ignore them any more, and the words go like this: what am I doing?
For so long, he's been... well... celibate and he's been that way by choice because of all the things that happened to him in prison. The last person he had the misfortune to fall for was Vicious, and look how well that one went. Before that, it was this guy on Mars, a fellow musician, and to get away from that relationship, he went all the way to Titan. The one before that was a man, and the one before that, too, and... it's hard to remember the last time he was involved with a woman. It was certainly a long time ago -- years and years, eight or nine or more. What if he can't do this the right way? What if she loses interest? What if he can't...
His hand still rests on her knee; looking down at it, he simply stops. He stops and looks up into Faye's face. There's no desire to interrogate her or extract promises that aren't ready to be made. But even though life isn't fair, he thinks asking his next question certainly is.
"How about you, Faye? Can you do the same thing: admit you like me without going back into that shell you like to carry around with you?" He'd really like to know.
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This turn of events is really pleasing. Mind racing, he thinks to all the possibilities that can spring from this, including where they go next and how they go about it. He starts visualizing things and then... these four little words creep into the back of his consciousness and they're so soft he almost doesn't hear them at first, but they get louder and louder until he just can't ignore them any more, and the words go like this: what am I doing?
For so long, he's been... well... celibate and he's been that way by choice because of all the things that happened to him in prison. The last person he had the misfortune to fall for was Vicious, and look how well that one went. Before that, it was this guy on Mars, a fellow musician, and to get away from that relationship, he went all the way to Titan. The one before that was a man, and the one before that, too, and... it's hard to remember the last time he was involved with a woman. It was certainly a long time ago -- years and years, eight or nine or more. What if he can't do this the right way? What if she loses interest? What if he can't...
His hand still rests on her knee; looking down at it, he simply stops. He stops and looks up into Faye's face. There's no desire to interrogate her or extract promises that aren't ready to be made. But even though life isn't fair, he thinks asking his next question certainly is.
"How about you, Faye? Can you do the same thing: admit you like me without going back into that shell you like to carry around with you?" He'd really like to know.