[ He doesn't know where to put her, exactly, but Wynonna isn't one of his men — and it's not that he ever really thought of her that way, as... subordinate. But he has felt a certain... responsibility for her, and maybe the shape of that has desperately latched onto whatever it could, however it could. He feels responsible for everyone here, but with some people, it's... different, it's deeper, it's terrifying, because there are people here he cares about the way an officer does not care about their men. A way that's not just responsibility. 'You're mine', something in him might whisper, sometimes, but not in the way a person of his rank would consider someone 'his'. It's— softer, gentler; you're mine to care for.
'Why were you angry?' she asks, and he doesn't know how to answer. What's.. the correct way to say it, the proper way.
But that's the thing. The act of being... companions with someone beyond simply "working together" isn't very proper in itself, is it. Sitting with her on his sofa after the sun had gone down, her head to his shoulder and his eyes heavy, half-lidded. Maybe such a thing will never happen again. (But what if it does? What if he'd want it to?) In any case, if he's going to continue to have this... relationship with her at all, this thing that isn't just people mutually surviving in a place together, he's going to have to acquiesce to the fact it isn't proper, and perhaps he's still struggling with that, unsure how to handle this through all of the other things he isn't sure how to handle.
But— one thing at a time. Why were you angry.]
Because— [ A soft sigh, not irritated or frustrated but upset, still, to think back upon what happened to her and Ruby. ] —it was wrong of them to shoot at you and Ms. Rose, no matter if you ventured to their territory. It was... indecent, immoral— They should face consequence, lawful consequence.
[ But of course, it isn't only that. Edward frowns, and lets his eyes drop to the space between them, as short as that distance is. ]
...Because I continue to fail to keep anyone safe. It isn't enough, I'm not—... [ His heart pounds with the awareness of its own honesty; it's difficult, it hurts, and through all of it he finds himself afraid to look back up at her eyes, but only because they're so hard to look away from once he's there.
He almost doesn't continue, but there's still more to it. More to his anger, to the frustration, to the fear. His eyes stay downwards, almost as though he's ashamed by his own words. ]
If something were to happen to you, I— I fear it would—... I'm afraid to lose you.
no me literally reigning myself in from essays of introspection
'Why were you angry?' she asks, and he doesn't know how to answer. What's.. the correct way to say it, the proper way.
But that's the thing. The act of being... companions with someone beyond simply "working together" isn't very proper in itself, is it. Sitting with her on his sofa after the sun had gone down, her head to his shoulder and his eyes heavy, half-lidded. Maybe such a thing will never happen again. (But what if it does? What if he'd want it to?) In any case, if he's going to continue to have this... relationship with her at all, this thing that isn't just people mutually surviving in a place together, he's going to have to acquiesce to the fact it isn't proper, and perhaps he's still struggling with that, unsure how to handle this through all of the other things he isn't sure how to handle.
But— one thing at a time. Why were you angry. ]
Because— [ A soft sigh, not irritated or frustrated but upset, still, to think back upon what happened to her and Ruby. ] —it was wrong of them to shoot at you and Ms. Rose, no matter if you ventured to their territory. It was... indecent, immoral— They should face consequence, lawful consequence.
[ But of course, it isn't only that. Edward frowns, and lets his eyes drop to the space between them, as short as that distance is. ]
...Because I continue to fail to keep anyone safe. It isn't enough, I'm not—... [ His heart pounds with the awareness of its own honesty; it's difficult, it hurts, and through all of it he finds himself afraid to look back up at her eyes, but only because they're so hard to look away from once he's there.
He almost doesn't continue, but there's still more to it. More to his anger, to the frustration, to the fear. His eyes stay downwards, almost as though he's ashamed by his own words. ]
If something were to happen to you, I— I fear it would—... I'm afraid to lose you.