TRIGGER WARNING: Brief mentions of child abuse and domestic violence
It's at some point in the later afternoon on Saturday that Javi chooses to show up at Solomon's apartment. Well, they //did// say they were going to hang out, right? So surely it's fine! And true to his word, he has brought the beer, so even if he ends up interrupting grading papers or something like that, hopefully it will be a welcome distraction. He also seems to have brought a pizza, so it takes a little doing to knock on the door, but he manages it well enough that it ought to be heard. Once he has, he takes a step back to wait to be let in. Assuming Solomon is even there. Hopefully he is. Otherwise, awkward.
Solomon is there! That's clear from the noise on the other side of the door, even before Javi knocks - the low murmur of what must be a televsion set. At the knock, that noise shuts off, replaced by a wary silence and then the tread of footsteps approaching. "Javi?" Solomon opens the door after checking the peephole. He's...clearly not expecting company, although he doesn't seem upset at Javi's presence. Just rumpled; his hair, unbrushed, is somewhat sticking up and out in several directions, and he's in a thin pullover shirt and the kind of sweatpants you don't expect other people to see. "Is everything all right?"
Javi is smiling when the door opens, and Solomon's appearance doesn't seem to phase him. He even starts to step forward -- until the question. //That// is when he stops, and blinks. It's surprising enough that it takes him a second to come up with a response, though that might also be because he's making some mental revisions. "Uh, yeah. I'm fine." He //does// look perfectly fine, much like he normally looks. So, also a little disheveled, though not as much as the other man. "We said we were gonna hang out, right?" A brief pause. "Prolly shoulda texted first." There's some vague embarrassment, but self-directed. "Sorry. You want this?" The hand with the pizza box shifts forward, like he's expecting to hand it off and then go.
Solomon stares for a long moment. Like he's also having to do a few mental revisions. He looks down at the pizza box, then up at Javi. Instead of taking the box, he opens the door from it's protective, city-dweller crack, and tilts his head. "C'mon in. Hope that's got meat on it." A flash of teeth. "Sorry. Just don't get a lot of impromptu visitors unless something's fucked." With his free hand, he hastily tries to pat his hair into some sort of shape other than 'wrecked'.
As Solomon's stare continues, Javi's embarrassment begins to take on a distinct note of worry, too. However, when the other man invites him in, he relaxes visibly, and then he smiles, too. Maybe not quite as wide as some of them, but it's pretty good. "Oh yeah," he confirms, of the meat, "it does. A lot." The beer is also not //his// usual choice, but looks like some vaguely interesting local thing, like he's specifically attempted to find something Solomon might like. "No worries, it's my bad. What're you up to?" He sets down the box and the 6-pack on some convenient surface or other, before he heads toward the terrarium with the flower mantis to look more closely at it. But not touch the glass, of course. "Hey, buddy."
"It's not bad. Just unexpected." Solomon checks the hall after Javi enters, as if expecting to find an ambush, then closes the door. He doesn't have a lot of locks, but that deadbolt is clearly something he installed himself, being sturdier than the norm for this neighborhood. It slides home with a solid thunk. There's a flicker of a smile at the beer. "Oh, I've been meaning to try this. I've heard it's good. You want it in a glass or straight from the teat?"
The flower mantis is sitting under a small umbrella of broad-leafed plants in the terrarium, doing quiet mantis things. When Javi appears on the other side of the glass, she shifts enough that her large eyes are clearly facing him, but doesn't otherwise seem concerned. Her spiked carapace is a gentle rainbow of color, still.
"Oh yeah?" Javi looks back over his shoulder as that smile pulls wider, and any lingering awkwardness from his potential misstep (that actually seems to be fine) melts away easily. "Cool. It looked like something you'd have. Bottle's good, though. If you're gonna get beer with a fancy label you gotta make sure everyone sees you drinking it so you look all cool and shit, right?" He's teasing, though -- considering it's just the two of them here, no one is going to see either of them looking cool or not.
He turns back to the terrarium, lifting a finger to crook it a couple times at the insect in a mini-wave, then straightens up to head to the couch instead and open the pizza. It does indeed have a significant amount of meat on it. "Man, still feeling it from doing the garden thing the other day. Maybe I'm getting old." He does sound like he's joking -- mostly -- but a closer look does reveal that he seems to be looking a little more tired than usual, and his constant movements are a //bit// less quick, like the edges have been dulled.
Solomon chuckles. "I suppose. Although there's a lot to be said about a beer in a pre-frosted mug." Not that he has any of those, so two bottles it is. He pops the tops and puts them on the tiny table, then returns to the kitchen to retrieve plates and napkins and things to lay out on the table. On his way back, he passes by the open box and his nose almost visibly twitches at the smells. "...that looks fantastic." His attention shifts to Javi and he studies him for a moment. "You look a little like the morning after. What else did you do but garden, and why wasn't I invited?" A flash of teeth again.
"Right? Lucky that stayed in one piece all the way over here. That place has the best pizza." Javi settles back on the couch, but when Solomon asks //that//, he snorts, even though the look he casts the other man is pretty fond. "Oh, you wanna come next time? I could be down. You thinking watching, or participating?" It's a light tease, though, and a moment later he shakes his head. "Nah. Nothing, really. Haven't even really been out that much." He takes a moment to consider, then admits, "Just been thinking about that place, I guess. Like, a lot. Kinda hard to get it out of my head. So I'm not really sleeping that good, that's all."
Solomon snags a couple of slices because he //clearly// hasn't done any cooking all day. Or possibly ever, by the cleanliness of the kitchen, and moves to settle at the table so he can eat without spilling. He snorts at the tease, "Depends on how much of a show you put on." It's a quick response, but is he blushing? Yes, those cheekbones are a little red, although he does his best to obscure it with a quick swallow of his beer. And mention of the Hedge has him sobering up right quick. "Yeah. Sorry about that. I can try to fix that, if you want. I mean, better dreams."
Despite the heavier admission, Javi can't fail to notice Solomon's suddenly flushed face. And true to form, he can't really hide the amusement that flickers across his face his face at having caused it. However, it's good-natured, not derisive, and still with the same fondness from a moment before. He shrugs, spreading his hands out wide to his sides and tilting his head with raised eyebrows and a slanted grin, as if inviting Solomon to make his own assessment. However, he doesn't press it much further than that. "It's cool," he continues more seriously. "I mean, they're not even //bad//? I mean, some of 'em aren't //good//, but it's more like...it's just kinda all the time." A beat; then: "Hold up. You can fix dreams?"
Solomon takes a moment to eat about half a slice of pizza, because everyone knows pizza is at its best when you're going to lose a layer of skin from the top of your mouth because of it. After he swallows, he bobs his head. "Sometimes. It depends on how deep they're entrenched, if anyone is actively fucking them up, and sometimes a little bit of luck. But yeah." He takes a swallow of his beer. "Where we went? The Hedge? It's the ultimate liminal space. It's //in between// everywhere. There are roads that lead to the world of the True Fae, there are roads to lead to mirror space, and roads that lead to dreamscapes. I wouldn't be surprised if, somewhere, there are roads that go even stranger places than that - but it's easy to get lost and never find your way back to the world you know."
Javi leans forward to grab a slice, too, taking a couple of quick bites as he listens to Solomon's description. His eyes widen a little bit as the other man goes on, wonder mixed with some slight discomfort. It isn't really directed //at// Solomon, more at the whole idea of things -- though it can be difficult to actually direct something like that. "That's crazy," he replies, shaking his head. "Cool, but yeah." Weird. He shifts on the couch, his eyes flicking upward to what is presumably his favorite invisible companion, then back to the other corporeal occupant. "It's okay though. I'm good. You prolly don't need to see all my shit in there." He reaches up to tap the side of his head to indicate what he means as a short laugh escapes him. Is that even how it works? //Would// Solomon see all his shit in there? He has no idea. But a moment later he does ask, "Have you done that before? Fixed someone's dreams. Is it like, you're in there seeing it and changing it or what?"
Solomon nods. "Yeah. A lot of what we do is crazy," he says with a rueful chuckle that maybe doesn't have as much humor as it would if it wasn't half-true. "And yeah. Back in my old city, a few of us would sometimes pitch in to make sure someone got a few good nights' sleep. And one of the bargains I made - like with you - was with someone who had some fairly horrific nightmares. I took care of one dream a week, so she at least got one night where she could get some sleep. And it's...like being in a different world. Things in there make their own kind of sense. You have to gently push it in the way you want it to go, or else you can make things worse. Or get killed."
"Yeah." No argument there. Javi takes another bite of pizza, then sets the plate down and reaches for his beer. He regards Solomon over the end of the bottle as he takes a sip, nodding slowly, though a little wince flickers across his face at the mention of the nightmares. "Kinda nice then, I guess," he admits as he settles further back against the couch again. "Like...useful. Sorta. You know what I mean." Hopefully. "Not that great if someone ended up dead 'cause of a dream but yeah. I can see how it'd be good sometimes."
"What is there worth dying for, if not a dream?" Solomon asks. It doesn't seem pointed towards Javi, but more a musing directed at the universe. He ruins the cool, contemplative air by biting into the pizza and hissing as a piece of cheese burns his lips, though. Once that's been dealt with, and the pizza swallowed, he considers the other man. "You're okay, though? After going there? It's a hell of a trip, I know. I probably shouldn't have taken you," a rueful admission, "but I trust you at my back. It was a bit selfish."
Javi huffs with softer amusement at Solomon's first words, but he does seem to be considering them more seriously -- that is, until the other man goes on. When he does, his eyebrows raise. "Oh hell no, no way," he says, sitting up quickly and shaking his head as he lifts a hand to point toward his companion. "You better fucking take me. I'm fine." He lets out a laugh that's a little self-conscious, and continues, "To be honest I wanna go back for real. It's like...it was weird, right? 'Cause I was kinda feeling like shit 'cause of that lock thing, but then when we got in there it's like I totally forgot about it. I mean," he clarifies, "you made me feel better about that too, but you know how it is. Still like embarrassed or whatever. But not in there. It was amazing." He stops, his mouth pulling to the side. "And sad, too. But just a //lot//. And I wanted to look at everything and touch everything. Dunno if you all feel like that when you go in there but yeah."
Solomon considers Javi for a long time. In silence. And that creepy stare. Finally, he says, "We can go back sometime. Not _there_. The Hedge is psychomorphic; your emotions influence what you find. That place is...not a good one to visit often. I suspect it will attract hunters for some time to come. But we'll plan a trip. Just be wary. Like I said; the Hedge is an in between place, and if you're looking in your life for a means of...escaping something? It'll offer plenty of opportunities. But it's sort of like--" he pauses, thinking, "Pinnochio. Did you ever read that? With the island where boys could do anything they wanted, indulge any impulse? Just like with the island, there are consequences."
The stare is //still// creepy, yes, but beyond a slight and mostly subconscious shift on the couch, Javi doesn't seem to be bothered by it anymore. Surely he's used to it by now. He's far more interested in what Solomon says after, anyway, and it has him grinning. "Really?" From his affect, he might be considering suggesting they go immediately -- or at least it probably crosses his mind, even if he manages to hold it in so Solomon can continue. The rest is at least enough to keep him on the couch instead of popping up excitedly. "Yeah. I read it." He hesitates, before his eyes flick up to the empty air again and he amends, "Actually Nacho read it to me. 'Cause you know, I couldn't really read that good when I was a kid. Prolly tryna make me do better in school." He laughs, admitting, "Kinda worked. But yeah, I get you. Not really looking to run away from shit now, things are going pretty good. So I'd be down to go with you again for sure. You got a favorite place in there or something?"
Solomon chuckles. "Children's tales have often been a way to try and make children behave. It never seems to work, though." There's a soft, nostalgic smile on his face, brief but poignant. Then, a shake of his head. "I only go into the Hedge at need. It's a fascinating place. Beautiful and dangerous. And...one of the reasons I came back to Chicago is to find the parts of my soul that I lost in the Thorns. But that's a risky endeavor, and as long as Huntsmen are actively prowling the area, not one I'd embark on, lightly. What's your favorite place in the city? Do you have one?"
"Hm, yeah. I still didn't do //that// good." Javi laughs again, bright and unashamed of whatever scuff marks there are on his academic record, at least at the moment. The laugh fades when he focuses on Solomon again, though, in time to catch the smile. It has him looking a little longer, moving over the other man's face with sudden focus. However, when he speaks it's to address the rest, not clarify anything he might have found there. "We don't have to go," he replies. "I know it's different for me. Like, it's cool and I was into it but for real, we don't need to go back. But if you gotta go in there sometime and you want backup I'm good for it."
He reaches for his pizza again, taking a thoughtful bite as he considers the question. "I like a lot of places," he says eventually, "but right when I got here I hung out a lot at Millennium Park. And I was pretty broke but they had concerts and movies and a ton of shit to do for free, you know? So you could just chill there and no one would really bug you as long as you weren't, like, starting shit. So yeah, that's probably my favorite place."
Solomon balls up a napkin and tosses it at Javi's head. "We don't HAVE to do anything. But we might. It's just gotta be in the right mindset. Like I said, the Hedge changes based on what you're feeling. If you go in and your head is a little fucked," he reaches up and taps his temple, "you find fucked up shit. Be angry, and you're gonna find a fight. Be scared, and things are gonna get scary. Be tired, someone might put you to bed forever. But yeah. When I go looking, I might need some backup."
A bob of his head. "Millennium Park's nice. I used to hang out there as a kid a lot. Still go running there."
Javi ducks out of the way of the napkin with a little outraged scoff, though he can't sell it very well when he's also laughing. "Damn," he remarks, shaking his head as he retrieves it. "Okay, got it. Good vibes only. I'll be super happy. We can bring a picnic. It'll be great." Okay, maybe that's a //little// exaggerated, but at least he seems to have gotten the message.
He starts to say something else -- or ask something else -- but he's drawn up short by Solomon's reply. "You run?" He's a little surprised, though not //shocked// or anything, and some amusement slips back in when he continues, "So where's my invite, huh? Afraid I'm gonna smoke your ass?" He grins, adding, "Don't worry, I'd let you win sometimes."
Solomon laughs. "I've heard of people doing that. Sometimes it probably even works." There's another, deeper laugh, at the surprise. "What, you think a figure like this comes without work?" He makes an expansive gesture to his skinny, bony self. "I run several mornings a week. You're welcome to join me; but I start about dawn." Eyebrows go up in a silent challenge. Followed by an audible challenge. "You'd be eating my dust the whole way, Javi. I apologize in advance."
"Perfect," Javi says with a nod, before he has to add, "This time I'll get //you// a cake." Sometimes he can't help himself, apparently, but the tease in it is light, and good-natured, especially when Solomon laughs. He takes a moment to look the other man over as if he's actually considering the question, but then his hands come up to concede the point. "You're right, makes sense. You do look good." He reaches for the bottle, gesturing toward him with as his smile widens in response to the challenge, unspoken and otherwise. "I can get up early. We'll see. Just don't ghost me when you get mad 'cause I beat you."
Solomon snorts and rolls his eyes. There's a flash of something that might even be irritation when Javi tells him he looks good, but he shrugs it off in the next moment. "Never gonna happen," he tells the other man - although whether he's talking about ghosting him or the prospect of Javi beating him, he doesn't say. "Although, speaking of ghost - how's Nacho doing? Does he, uh, want anything? I don't know if we can...send beer into the spirit realm or something."
Whether Javi actually sees the flash of irritation or not, he doesn't say anything else about //that// -- no poking today. At least, not much. Instead, his expression softens a little bit at the reply, which might indicate which way he's taken it.
When Solomon mentions that particular ghost, though, he shrugs. "Oh, you know. He's fine. Hanging out." He shakes his head, admitting, "Not really, though. Not, like, in a Día de los Muertos way. That'd be kinda cool, though." He takes a moment to finish off //his// beer, but it also gives him time to consider something else. He's obviously weighing whatever it is, but ultimately he decides to continue. "Things are kinda weird with us right now."
Solomon gets up to get another piece of pizza. It's spicy and savory and has a lot of meat. Dump some sugar on it and would probably be Solomon's perfect meal. He takes a seat and frowns. "Kinda weird? How so?" Is he maybe wondering how things can possibly be more weird than guy and his dead brother hanging out together? Maybe.
Javi //did// say it, but as soon as it's out it seems to regret it. His eyes come up again, but this time they track that invisible presence toward the wall with the door, and they linger there for a few seconds before they close briefly. "It's hard to explain." He reaches up to scrub a hand over his face, letting out a little sigh. "Like, they're not really who they were. But when they got all their memories and their personality and whatever, they kinda are. And like, he was the one who was gonna go places. You know? He was the smart one. I was kind of a fuck up. So now I'm kinda getting my shit together and it's like, he was the one who kept saying I should but it's hard to see it, I guess."
"That does sound hard," Solomon murmurs. "For you both. You have to live your life, pursue your dreams. And his whole being is attached to you. And, perhaps, to the dynamic that you two had. He's very protective." The smallest of smiles there, as he's been the recipient of that urge. "Even if you were both alive, he couldn't be your protector forever. But he doesn't have the ability to find a different purpose. I assume."
"Yeah." Javi tilts his head back, letting it rest against the back of the couch and staring at the ceiling. He lets out a quiet laugh, though it's more wry than amused, and fades quickly. He lifts his hands to lace them together, resting them against his chest. "Right. He doesn't. Just, like, watching me. Being around me, tryna protect me, but he can't really be //in// it with me. And ghosts get stronger when people think about 'em, right? Remember 'em, how they were when they were alive. So he's never gonna fade 'cause it ain't like I'm suddenly gonna forget him. And he probably won't move on until I die of old age." He shrugs, admitting, "Kinda know how he feels now, I guess." He rolls his head to the side toward Solomon, with a little smile. "'Cause that's like how I kinda feel sometimes with you. Not like, in a bad way," he amends quickly. "And it's not the same, 'cause it's not like I want what happened to you to happen to me, you know? But there's this whole world that's way bigger than me, and you can kinda bring me in a little bit but I know I can't be in it all the way." He huffs. "I know you could kick my ass in a race any day just like I know if bad shit really went down I couldn't help you. You'd be tryna help me. So, yeah."
Solomon just listens. And eats pizza, but that's a given. "I can understand that. I think you might underestimate your potential power - but that's a choice you've made. I can't even say it's a bad choice. When you've interacted with ghosts that I've seen, you've been...respectful. Generous. Focused on trying to help them, even when they're fucking assholes about it." A smile, there and gone. "And I think you might be surprised. About how useful you are, and how much help you'd be in a dire situation. Maybe you couldn't punch a monster in a face and lay it out. But you've got a good brain, whatever you think, and you're quick to act. Sometimes that's what matters."
Javi snorts, turning his face back to the ceiling at //that// particular memory. "What a dick," he agrees, but also conversationally, and without any malice toward the ghost. He takes a deep breath, letting it out in a long sigh before he concedes, "I could make him go. But I was basically the reason he died so like, yeah. Plus I'd miss him."
He shrugs, then sits up straight again, leaning forward to grab another slice for himself. "Maybe. Just really don't wanna end up fucking you over if you bring me somewhere and I fuck up. You know?"
"People fuck up, Javi." Solomon's voice is quiet. "If anything, if I drag you somewhere and you get hurt, that's my fuck up. Not yours. You always see yourself as the weakest link. It's kinda annoying," he adds, lightly. He keeps staring at Javi. "How are you the reason he died?"
Javi's gaze turns back to Solomon at the comment, and light though it may be, it does have him making a visible effort to be less sorry for himself, much like he had the other day in the zoo. "Okay, yeah," he replies as his shoulders straighten a little, "maybe I'm not. I did find that bottle thing."
The follow-up question, though, makes him look away again. as if he hadn't actually expected there to be one. Though why that should be is anybody's guess. "Oh," he says with a shrug, "it was just, like...a thing." He takes a bite of pizza, chewing for a very long time, far longer than is necessary. "So our dad had this record collection, right? And no one was supposed to touch it. But I really liked it. So I was listening to something one day 'cause he was gone, he was supposed to be gone for a while. But he came home early and he was already like, pissed off. So he kinda startled me when I was holding one and I dropped it, and it broke. So he like, went at me. And Nacho heard and he like, tried to get him off, right? But then //they// got into it and like...it wasn't really on purpose?" He pauses, then adds, "But it wasn't really //not// on purpose. You know? He just didn't really give a shit about either of us. So yeah. Just kinda happened."
Solomon's mouth goes flat as Javi explains. "That's what big brothers do," he says, so quiet that it's almost debatable whether he intends Javi to hear. Maybe he does, though, because his next words are a little louder. He doesn't raise his voice, but it definitely gets more intense, laced with something very like hate - and certainly fury - as it goes on. "The good ones, anyway. He didn't die because of you, though. He died because your father was...who and what he was. Kids touch shit. And I bet it wasn't even about that. Not really. Fuckers like that are always just looking for a reason when they're in a mood. My dad, fuck, he'd go off because we were //looking// at him wrong. It was just an excuse. It's always just a fucking excuse. He wanted to hurt someone, and you were there. And your brother stepped in because //that's what we do//. But it's not--you couldn't have stopped it. You couldn't have made it not happen. The only one who could have was that asshole. Don't let him off that hook even a bit."
It's hard to say whether Javi hears the first words or not -- he's a little lost in the memory, staring in front of him in a way he often does, though with a subtle yet unmistakable difference. He's not looking at anything in particular now, not even something invisible.
However, when Solomon goes on, and the tone shifts, he looks up again. He can't fail to hear //that//. It's the sort of tone that might have had him shrinking a little bit into himself if it were from someone else, but he doesn't now. His brows pull together, a frown settling onto his face as Solomon goes on. He doesn't necessarily seem like he //agrees//, but neither does he actively disagree. Actually, even though he's listening, it's like it's all informing something else that's been on his mind for a little while. He watches Solomon in silence for several seconds once he's finished, wheels turning in his head as obviously as if they were actual, literal pieces of machinery that could be seen.
"How come you don't really talk to your sister no more?" he finally asks. It's gentle -- delicate. But he still asks. He can't //not// ask.
"We weren't talking about me," Solomon snaps at Javi, although it mostly seems to be leftover rage. He runs his hand through his hair in the next moment and mutters, "Sorry." But it still looks like he might not answer it. He slumps in his chair and glares at the beer bottle. Then drains the rest of it. After the bottle hits the table he admits, "I don't know. We had a plan, you know? I was gonna get through freshman year, get a place as soon as I didn't have to live on campus. Get her out of there. But I got taken. When I got back, that fucker wearing my face--I don't know what he said or did, but whatever it was, it was enough." He bares his teeth. "She won't even talk to me long enough to figure out what happened. And I can't say //hey that wasn't me//. It'd be fucking insulting to her."
"I know. Sorry." The snap makes Javi flinch -- barely -- but other than that little blip he holds himself relatively steady. And even though he's quick to apologize, reflexively attempting to smooth over something he might feel to be a //fuck up//, he doesn't take it back, not even in the silence that has to be uncomfortable for him, knowing him relatively well as Solomon now does.
he gets his answer eventually, and it has him letting out a breath. "Damn." It's very low, almost a whisper, quiet under the weight of the revelation. "That really fucking sucks." It's quite the understatement, but the feeling beneath it is more forceful than the actual words. "That who you wanted to talk to?" he continues after another moment. "When you said that time you wanted someone out of the way so you could talk to someone else. That was her, yeah?"
Solomon nods. "Yeah." He takes a deep breath. "She went and married our father, pretty much. She was counting on me and I let her down." It's stated flatly, as an observation of fact. "I wanted to..." A pause. "It was selfish. I got thrown by some shit, and I thought if I talked to her, even if she yelled at me, it'd help me--" He shakes his head. "I ended up just watching her for a while, instead. She doesn't need me making her life harder."
"Fuck." Javi reaches a hand up to rub the back of his neck. His shoulders drop fractionally, and he glances toward the door, though not like he's trying to escape -- they may be actually alone in the apartment now, even if his invisible companion can't go very far.
He looks back to Solomon when the other man continues, though, and after a moment he shakes his head. Just once, but decisively. "Nah," he says. He still seems to be treading a bit more lightly than usual, but he doesn't hesitate. He's in it now. "How you gonna know what she needs if you don't even try? Okay, maybe you can't straight up tell her, hey, that wasn't me. But like you said, people fuck up. But you're //here//. You can still show up for her now. Yeah, she'll prolly be pissed at you but if she sees you really tryna fix whatever it was, that's gonna mean something. It would if it were me."
Solomon gives Javi a flat look. "Do you think I didn't //try//, man? She told me to fuck off." His jaw sets in an unhappy line. "She's made it very fucking clear that she doesn't want to see me, hear from me, or have anything to do with me. I can't just override her choices." So he's just gonna stalk her, instead.
"Fine." This time, Javi doesn't back down, even at the flat look. He's not //aggressive// about it, but he also isn't going to be quiet, apparently. "Then you keep showing up. Not in a fucking creepy way," he clarifies -- because, yeah. "Like you're her brother. Don't just be hiding out by her place watching her, damn. You tell her you're sorry, okay, that you know you hurt her, but then you show her you're tryna do things different. You make sure she knows you're here. Even if she's pissed. People need time sometimes and yeah you can't force her to see you but if you just ditch her now 'cause she told you to fuck off once or twice that's gonna prove she was right, that you suck. But you //don't// suck. You don't."
"Shut //up//, Javi," Solomon just about snarls. His shoulders hunch and he has the look of a trapped animal. "You don't fucking know as much as you think you know. And we weren't talking about me! Shit. You've never even met her. Just because you're fucking endlessly forgiving doesn't mean anyone else is. She's got a kid. She doesn't need to be dealing with my shit."
There's another little flinch at the tone, but Javi takes a breath, letting it out slowly. It doesn't really relax him -- he's very clearly nervous, and highly uncomfortable, but he doesn't actually shut up just yet. Instead, he throws back, "Maybe //she// needs //you// to deal with //her// shit."
He does stand up -- again, it's not a particularly aggressive movement, but he also doesn't sink into himself like he's trying to make himself invisible. It takes some effort not to, but he manages it. "I'mma give you a minute 'cause you're pissed at me," he says, "but we're still good on my end. I'll see you soon. And you can text me or come by if you want. Even if you just want a fucking hug." With that, he turns, heading for the door.
Solomon hisses. He actually lets out a noise that can only be called a primal //hiss//. His eyes are snapping fury, and he lurches to his feet when Javi stands. He doesn't lunge forward; his hands aren't even balled up. But his anger is clear when he says, thickly, "Fuck off, Javi." He doesn't move until Javi is through the door. Only then does he stalk over, throw the deadbolt, and slam his way into his bedroom to try not to throw things at walls.
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