[ Yeah, there isn't a chance that Gen is actually fine. Amos has been on this side of the routine before, and he meets it the same way he has previously: a flat stare, a deliberate tilt of his head to say Bullshit.
He won't vocalize it, though. If Gen wants to lie to himself, that's fine; that isn't Amos' problem. As long as Gen knows that Amos knows that he's full of shit, he can say whatever he wants, for whatever effect he thinks it's going to have. But it's not like he can criticize someone else for running away from their problems. Clearly.
His frown deepens as Gen picks at the white in his hair. ]
Yeah. You're too young for your hair to start going white.
[ It's— The whole thing is so fucked up, and this time, Amos actually doesn't feel all that much like drinking. He rests his arm atop the bar, nudging his glass away a little with his forearm, blocking it, as he leans in a little closer to Gen. Lowers his voice, because this is a public place, and he's probably already been firmly outed as an Aion here anyway, but not like everyone needs to listen in on this. ]
I'm sorry. [ Shit, and he really is now, isn't he, even though the inflection in his voice doesn't change, even though he isn't trying to play things off like Gen is. He's done getting smashed and blitzed out of his mind; all that's left now is to be direct. ] I fucked up. I got you fucked up along with it. I knew exactly what I was doing and I did it anyway. You didn't deserve that. You shouldn't have had to take the brunt for how weak I am.
no subject
He won't vocalize it, though. If Gen wants to lie to himself, that's fine; that isn't Amos' problem. As long as Gen knows that Amos knows that he's full of shit, he can say whatever he wants, for whatever effect he thinks it's going to have. But it's not like he can criticize someone else for running away from their problems. Clearly.
His frown deepens as Gen picks at the white in his hair. ]
Yeah. You're too young for your hair to start going white.
[ It's— The whole thing is so fucked up, and this time, Amos actually doesn't feel all that much like drinking. He rests his arm atop the bar, nudging his glass away a little with his forearm, blocking it, as he leans in a little closer to Gen. Lowers his voice, because this is a public place, and he's probably already been firmly outed as an Aion here anyway, but not like everyone needs to listen in on this. ]
I'm sorry. [ Shit, and he really is now, isn't he, even though the inflection in his voice doesn't change, even though he isn't trying to play things off like Gen is. He's done getting smashed and blitzed out of his mind; all that's left now is to be direct. ] I fucked up. I got you fucked up along with it. I knew exactly what I was doing and I did it anyway. You didn't deserve that. You shouldn't have had to take the brunt for how weak I am.