Sand swallowed, almost looking away from that gaze, from that tenderness, before he breathed in and managed to look back. He wanted to kiss him, but another part of him wanted to tell him--
He wanted to tell him. The one thing he'd never told anyone, the secret he'd guarded close to his heart for ten years, for seventy years. He wanted to tell him because if there was anything that he needed protection from, it was that.
He'd held the secret for so long that it felt impossible, though. Some part of him fought the urge, reminded him that Wesley was dead, that Dian was dead. The years had passed, the Velvet Cage was a thing of the past, it shouldn't matter, but the dishonesty, the lie...
Holding onto it, keeping the full truth of it, it felt like a part of him was still there. Because he didn't want to tarnish Wesley's legacy. Because he owed it to his aunt.
But didn't he owe himself too? Didn't he owe himself the honesty of the truth, of someone else knowing what he'd really been through?
"I want--"
But this was too soon, too much to ask of a man he'd known a day, wasn't it? Or was that just his mind trying to make up excuses? It was hard to tell, so hard; duty and the greater good had been his driving forces since he'd been a child, since he'd worked out day and night to be a worthy protege to the Sandman. It was instinct as much as habit at this point.
What if he didn't understand? What if he didn't comprehend the meaning of it, what it meant, what he'd gone through? What if he did?
So much comfort and he still wanted more and he wasn't sure if this was moving on, doing things he should do as even Wesley's spirit had urged him to do or simple foolishness.
But Mike wanted to protect him. Mike wanted to protect him, and that meant showing the only wound he couldn't heal. At least, he hoped so.
"I want to tell you something. Something I've never... never told to anyone, not even my closest friends. If... if you want to hear it."
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He wanted to tell him. The one thing he'd never told anyone, the secret he'd guarded close to his heart for ten years, for seventy years. He wanted to tell him because if there was anything that he needed protection from, it was that.
He'd held the secret for so long that it felt impossible, though. Some part of him fought the urge, reminded him that Wesley was dead, that Dian was dead. The years had passed, the Velvet Cage was a thing of the past, it shouldn't matter, but the dishonesty, the lie...
Holding onto it, keeping the full truth of it, it felt like a part of him was still there. Because he didn't want to tarnish Wesley's legacy. Because he owed it to his aunt.
But didn't he owe himself too? Didn't he owe himself the honesty of the truth, of someone else knowing what he'd really been through?
"I want--"
But this was too soon, too much to ask of a man he'd known a day, wasn't it? Or was that just his mind trying to make up excuses? It was hard to tell, so hard; duty and the greater good had been his driving forces since he'd been a child, since he'd worked out day and night to be a worthy protege to the Sandman. It was instinct as much as habit at this point.
What if he didn't understand? What if he didn't comprehend the meaning of it, what it meant, what he'd gone through? What if he did?
So much comfort and he still wanted more and he wasn't sure if this was moving on, doing things he should do as even Wesley's spirit had urged him to do or simple foolishness.
But Mike wanted to protect him. Mike wanted to protect him, and that meant showing the only wound he couldn't heal. At least, he hoped so.
"I want to tell you something. Something I've never... never told to anyone, not even my closest friends. If... if you want to hear it."