[Roy could probably write a novel about what too late looks like - about all the times Jason's demons had crawled out of the woodwork to threaten all three of them, and they'd been caught unawares because Jason had never bothered to actually talk about what was weighing on his mind. That had always sorta driven Roy crazy. Just a little.
As far as Roy's concerned, letting things sit just lets them fester and eat away at all the soft stuff inside a person until they're nothing but a hard, fragile shell. That's the last thing he'd want for Finn, but he's still not going to push too much. And honestly? He pretty much expects the brush-off, just like Jason had always given him. It's not a big deal, it comes with the territory, sometimes it takes a while, a lot of careful effort, to open people up, and Roy's fine with that. He likes Finn enough to put in the effort.
But instead, Finn just puts his head down, avoids eye contact, and actually talks. So Roy shuts his mouth and listens, even as his eyes keep sweeping the perimeter, making sure they're not surrounded, that the sounds aren't real. Finn's voice is contradicting itself, the words matter of fact, the tone a little fragile and uncertain. Roy knows that sound, that feeling, that choice of words. Knows how it feels to say the deep, painful things in that flippant voice, hoping that whoever you're laying out your weakness for isn't going to stomp on it and break your heart.
Glancing back over at Finn, he makes a snap decision that feels as natural as breathing - he's not going to do that. Not gonna judge, not gonna mock, not gonna make light. Finn is his friend, no matter what he says, Roy's gonna have his back. Even if what he did is bad. Even if he killed people.]
no subject
As far as Roy's concerned, letting things sit just lets them fester and eat away at all the soft stuff inside a person until they're nothing but a hard, fragile shell. That's the last thing he'd want for Finn, but he's still not going to push too much. And honestly? He pretty much expects the brush-off, just like Jason had always given him. It's not a big deal, it comes with the territory, sometimes it takes a while, a lot of careful effort, to open people up, and Roy's fine with that. He likes Finn enough to put in the effort.
But instead, Finn just puts his head down, avoids eye contact, and actually talks. So Roy shuts his mouth and listens, even as his eyes keep sweeping the perimeter, making sure they're not surrounded, that the sounds aren't real. Finn's voice is contradicting itself, the words matter of fact, the tone a little fragile and uncertain. Roy knows that sound, that feeling, that choice of words. Knows how it feels to say the deep, painful things in that flippant voice, hoping that whoever you're laying out your weakness for isn't going to stomp on it and break your heart.
Glancing back over at Finn, he makes a snap decision that feels as natural as breathing - he's not going to do that. Not gonna judge, not gonna mock, not gonna make light. Finn is his friend, no matter what he says, Roy's gonna have his back. Even if what he did is bad. Even if he killed people.]
You were in the army?
[Roy's tone is neutral, curious and encouraging.]