[The truth of the matter is that Fugo does not understand affection. Not when it's directed towards him; not after what he believes was an impossibly stupid mistake, one that he will never be able to make up for.]
But you aren't drinking. [However bad things are right now, however bad things went back home, Abbacchio hasn't turned to alcohol. As far as Fugo has seen, he has maintained his sobriety. And it's not as if alcohol (or, for that matter, drugs) is to get in Bavan, especially with the morons behind Red Alert shilling their poison on the network.] That counts for something, especially in circumstances like these.
[ Were it anyone other than Fugo, he'd have walked straight out, frankly. But the circumstances of their first meeting and their shared history mean that Fugo is already privy to this, whether Abbacchio likes it or not, and the result is that he gets a pass – barely. It says a lot that it's a topic he'll allow Fugo to broach in the first place; that Abbacchio trusts him not to needle at that already too-thin line more than he should.
Still, he drops his gaze from Fugo's, glances around at the bare room. He's perfectly capable of drinking within reason and moderation a majority of the time – it's when things get bad, when the noise in his brain gets too loud or the problems seem too big, that he slips. And over the course of the two years or so that Abbacchio has known Fugo, even if it was nowhere near as bad or as frequent as those first few months, to Abbacchio, that slip is still viewed as an inevitability. ]
Yeah, well. [ There's a small puff of air; a short, humourless laugh. Empty and hollow. Abbacchio is not going to sit here and pretend he's something he's not, not to Fugo. Nor is he going to give him any false expectations, only to set him up for future disappointment. ] Don't hold your breath.
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tw: mention of past alcohol abuse
But you aren't drinking. [However bad things are right now, however bad things went back home, Abbacchio hasn't turned to alcohol. As far as Fugo has seen, he has maintained his sobriety. And it's not as if alcohol (or, for that matter, drugs) is to get in Bavan, especially with the morons behind Red Alert shilling their poison on the network.] That counts for something, especially in circumstances like these.
cw; alcohol abuse
Still, he drops his gaze from Fugo's, glances around at the bare room. He's perfectly capable of drinking within reason and moderation a majority of the time – it's when things get bad, when the noise in his brain gets too loud or the problems seem too big, that he slips. And over the course of the two years or so that Abbacchio has known Fugo, even if it was nowhere near as bad or as frequent as those first few months, to Abbacchio, that slip is still viewed as an inevitability. ]
Yeah, well. [ There's a small puff of air; a short, humourless laugh. Empty and hollow. Abbacchio is not going to sit here and pretend he's something he's not, not to Fugo. Nor is he going to give him any false expectations, only to set him up for future disappointment. ] Don't hold your breath.