"Not that part," he grumbled. He couldn't say that he regretted his actions, as foolish as they seemed in retrospect. He'd felt justified in his reasons for withholding the information; initially, he hadn't believed it was really all that serious, and then of course, he would have done anything to protect anyone on the team from getting hurt. His approach, were anything like that to ever happen again, would be different next time, certainly. He would've wanted anyone on the team to reach out for help, and as stubborn as he was, he had learned the value of letting people help him, too. Just because he wasn't good at asking, or even at accepting it, didn't mean he would deny it.
When he shifted on the couch, the movement tugged a little uncomfortably at his stitches, and a hand went instinctively to his side. It was painful, but almost opportune, given what he was about to say. It gave him an extra few seconds to think about how he wanted to say this.
It had been a very long time since he'd felt anything resembling this level of...attachment, love, for someone else. It had been so long, in fact, that it was difficult to recognize the feelings for what they were. He was sure, given everything, that he'd spent the better part of a year resisting those feelings so well that they'd never even risen close to the surface. There were so many reasons to think that nothing could ever possibly come of it, not the least of which being that Reid was almost impossible to read on the subject. He was so skittish, so unsure of himself in that arena that it would make it hard to invite anyone else in. Giving any of these feelings power was the worst thing he could do; he wasn't exactly the most sentimental guy, but he did believe in listening when your brain and heart were in concert. He had baggage, and he'd been hurt, and there was no conceivable reason why he should let himself even think about something more than friendship again, but keeping quiet didn't feel right to him. Even if he fumbled his way through this, it was more important to have it said. It would do Reid some good, if nothing else, to know that he could be loved, in a way perhaps he never let himself contemplate very often.
"About you," he finally said, breath hitching slightly as he shifted again.
(( OOC: I love the story where Reid gets sick. :3 ))
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When he shifted on the couch, the movement tugged a little uncomfortably at his stitches, and a hand went instinctively to his side. It was painful, but almost opportune, given what he was about to say. It gave him an extra few seconds to think about how he wanted to say this.
It had been a very long time since he'd felt anything resembling this level of...attachment, love, for someone else. It had been so long, in fact, that it was difficult to recognize the feelings for what they were. He was sure, given everything, that he'd spent the better part of a year resisting those feelings so well that they'd never even risen close to the surface. There were so many reasons to think that nothing could ever possibly come of it, not the least of which being that Reid was almost impossible to read on the subject. He was so skittish, so unsure of himself in that arena that it would make it hard to invite anyone else in. Giving any of these feelings power was the worst thing he could do; he wasn't exactly the most sentimental guy, but he did believe in listening when your brain and heart were in concert. He had baggage, and he'd been hurt, and there was no conceivable reason why he should let himself even think about something more than friendship again, but keeping quiet didn't feel right to him. Even if he fumbled his way through this, it was more important to have it said. It would do Reid some good, if nothing else, to know that he could be loved, in a way perhaps he never let himself contemplate very often.
"About you," he finally said, breath hitching slightly as he shifted again.
(( OOC: I love the story where Reid gets sick. :3 ))