The waiter passes near the table, and Darling asks for a few more moments to consider, so he can at least answer Tom's question.
"One of the reasons I'm so interested in what you can do is that I can't. I'm not a parautilitarian, I can't bend reality to my will like so many at the Bureau seem to be able to. So much of my work feels like a child showing a card trick to a bunch of grown ups. It gets polite applause, but in the end, it's nothing they can't already do."
"Darling." Pieces are being put into place. Tom allows himself to lean forward, hands gently clasped.
"I would be lying if I said that I'm only a permanent fixture in your building because I can't leave and the only option is that place. But."
And here his hands move up, sliding to hold Darling's in a firm, assuring way. His thumb slides over the doctor's knuckles.
"You're the only one in the building that's truly, completely genuine. Funnily enough, you aren't with yourself, but to others? To me? You're the only thing worth it in there. It's how easily flustered you get, the look of concentration you have focusing. That smile. You tug at your ear when you're embarrassed, did you know?"
He shrugs.
"I like you. You shimmer. And you don't want to see me in a cell like everyone else does."
"No, I -- " Darling watches Tom's fingers move over his hand, rather than try to meet his gaze. He feels warm, his cheeks and the edges of his ears going a little pink as Tom talks about the little observations he's made about him. Things Darling had never really realized about himself.
"I didn't know," he says softly, setting his hand on top of Tom's, trapping the artist's hand between both of his. "But thank you.
And you're right, I don't want to see you hidden away. You deserve to be able to shine, too."
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
no subject
Tom doesn't bother to hide the brief sorrow in his gaze, nor the way his eyes shine slightly as the reality of what Darling's said washes over him.
"Is your opinion of yourself outside of work truly so low that you don't believe you're deserving of it?"
no subject
"One of the reasons I'm so interested in what you can do is that I can't. I'm not a parautilitarian, I can't bend reality to my will like so many at the Bureau seem to be able to. So much of my work feels like a child showing a card trick to a bunch of grown ups. It gets polite applause, but in the end, it's nothing they can't already do."
no subject
"I would be lying if I said that I'm only a permanent fixture in your building because I can't leave and the only option is that place. But."
And here his hands move up, sliding to hold Darling's in a firm, assuring way. His thumb slides over the doctor's knuckles.
"You're the only one in the building that's truly, completely genuine. Funnily enough, you aren't with yourself, but to others? To me? You're the only thing worth it in there. It's how easily flustered you get, the look of concentration you have focusing. That smile. You tug at your ear when you're embarrassed, did you know?"
He shrugs.
"I like you. You shimmer. And you don't want to see me in a cell like everyone else does."
no subject
"I didn't know," he says softly, setting his hand on top of Tom's, trapping the artist's hand between both of his. "But thank you.
And you're right, I don't want to see you hidden away. You deserve to be able to shine, too."
no subject