Grantaire takes a step forward as he's speaking, bridging the distance between them. This whole thing seems just as disastrous -- beautifully he has yet to find out -- as the three of them, and maybe he should have expected that. But he doesn't want it to be a bad memory for anyone, no matter what happens.
Edgar's expression warms, though, as he's rambling on, and Neil takes his hand, and he looks like he's been knocked over by a wave, a little, but not like he's going to laugh.
The hell of it is, he'd never wanted to be a husband, either. He'd assumed it would happen, stand in front of a priest and have the whole Mass and the vows, because agnostic as he is about everything, he still grew up Catholic and besides, that's just what happened. But before the island he'd never lived in a place where he'd thought that such promises had room for someone as broken and skeptical of society and not normal as he was, either. Or realized why he'd want the party and the announcement. Somehow in a place like this, where they might disappear at any moment, it seems even more important.
He looks at Edgar, warm and grateful, and his eyes shift sharply when Neil says okay. Somehow it seems incredibly unlikely; some part of him, the part that whispers all the worst things, had been sure at least one of them would point out that he's not exactly marriagable material or that he wants something that's ridiculous.
"Yeah?" He lets out a breath, stepping closer and feels a bit like he's going to cry, which is going to make this whole thing even less graceful. It's also impossible to kiss both of them, which he really would like to do, so instead he just reaches for them both.
"I -- Christ, I was sure no one wanted me to be serious. I know it's not very different, you're absolutely right," he aims that at Edgar with a very loving laugh, "I just --"
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Edgar's expression warms, though, as he's rambling on, and Neil takes his hand, and he looks like he's been knocked over by a wave, a little, but not like he's going to laugh.
The hell of it is, he'd never wanted to be a husband, either. He'd assumed it would happen, stand in front of a priest and have the whole Mass and the vows, because agnostic as he is about everything, he still grew up Catholic and besides, that's just what happened. But before the island he'd never lived in a place where he'd thought that such promises had room for someone as broken and skeptical of society and not normal as he was, either. Or realized why he'd want the party and the announcement. Somehow in a place like this, where they might disappear at any moment, it seems even more important.
He looks at Edgar, warm and grateful, and his eyes shift sharply when Neil says okay. Somehow it seems incredibly unlikely; some part of him, the part that whispers all the worst things, had been sure at least one of them would point out that he's not exactly marriagable material or that he wants something that's ridiculous.
"Yeah?" He lets out a breath, stepping closer and feels a bit like he's going to cry, which is going to make this whole thing even less graceful. It's also impossible to kiss both of them, which he really would like to do, so instead he just reaches for them both.
"I -- Christ, I was sure no one wanted me to be serious. I know it's not very different, you're absolutely right," he aims that at Edgar with a very loving laugh, "I just --"