It stings more than it has any right to sting after this long, after learning how to press down all the hurt and disappointment crowding inside him to make room for more, and he hates it. Hates that Ed won't let him go quietly, ashamed; hates that Ed's carelessly cut him and refuses to be sorry for it, letting him bleed like everyone else.
"My plan," he spits the word at him, "was to tell you and to leave it at that, because when I made the choice to confide in something of a deeply personal nature, I assumed the great Ed Nygma wasn't so brainlessly obtuse --" --stabbing a finger at his own temple - -"as to demand an explanation!"
It hangs in the air like a threat, his eyes bright and fierce and wet.
"But obviously I misjudged you. So. Here we are. And here's what's going to happen."
He leans in, then, his voice low, seething cold.
"You are going to let go of me, and then you're going to walk away, because this conversation is over. Whatever you're just dying to tell me, I don't want to hear it. You've done enough."
Being called brainlessly obtuse has him grinding his teeth together, as does the entire rest of this conversation that somehow turned into a thinly veiled threat. Maybe he would have been better off with the assassination attempt. Edward does let go of Oswald, suddenly much less inclined to say anything that dives into his own emotional state. Largely since his own emotional state at the moment consists of hurt feelings buried under anger.
"Thanks for a lovely dinner." There isn't even a need for his voice to sound sarcastic, the situation does that for him. He rises to his feet and walks past Oswald without looking back, heading for his room. Of course he slams the door, it isn't as if he has any scruples about behaving like a petulant child when the situation calls for it.
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now go to your room and think about what you did, young man
It stings more than it has any right to sting after this long, after learning how to press down all the hurt and disappointment crowding inside him to make room for more, and he hates it. Hates that Ed won't let him go quietly, ashamed; hates that Ed's carelessly cut him and refuses to be sorry for it, letting him bleed like everyone else.
"My plan," he spits the word at him, "was to tell you and to leave it at that, because when I made the choice to confide in something of a deeply personal nature, I assumed the great Ed Nygma wasn't so brainlessly obtuse --" --stabbing a finger at his own temple - -"as to demand an explanation!"
It hangs in the air like a threat, his eyes bright and fierce and wet.
"But obviously I misjudged you. So. Here we are. And here's what's going to happen."
He leans in, then, his voice low, seething cold.
"You are going to let go of me, and then you're going to walk away, because this conversation is over. Whatever you're just dying to tell me, I don't want to hear it. You've done enough."
no subject
Being called brainlessly obtuse has him grinding his teeth together, as does the entire rest of this conversation that somehow turned into a thinly veiled threat. Maybe he would have been better off with the assassination attempt. Edward does let go of Oswald, suddenly much less inclined to say anything that dives into his own emotional state. Largely since his own emotional state at the moment consists of hurt feelings buried under anger.
"Thanks for a lovely dinner." There isn't even a need for his voice to sound sarcastic, the situation does that for him. He rises to his feet and walks past Oswald without looking back, heading for his room. Of course he slams the door, it isn't as if he has any scruples about behaving like a petulant child when the situation calls for it.