"No," Edwin says, very softly. He pokes his head out through Jedao's collar, free of spiky bits thanks to his habit of keeping his crown as interior as possible. He presses his face against the base of Jedao's throat, feeling the hum of the song there. Just as soft, a protest: "No."
It's sudden and strange and passing but for a moment, he doesn't want Jedao to love him. He doesn't want Jedao to love him this much, because if Jedao ever stops, if he could love this much and Edwin-- Yellow could make him stop, then there really is nothing good about Yellow that isn't just a mannerism copied from someone better.
He doesn't know how to frame even half of the chaos making words hard right now. Cool, slim forelegs reach up to cling to Jedao's neck while he keeps his face hidden against his father's skin.
"what is the name of a place that everyone can see is burning...but no one can feel the effects of the smoke...or the heat of the flames...except the place...& the place is not a place but a person...& that person is the i in my poems...only it's my real life body that aches...& isn't that love...not being able to see the explosion...because you are the one holding the bomb...& the bomb is also you."
Jedao keeps one arm firmly around the bulk of him and pets his little head gently with the other.
"Yeah," Jedao says softly. "I hear you. Please let me?"
And then he starts to sing again, picking it up with the lesser-known verse, that earns the melancholy air of the melody, the part that Godric would more often sing only after he thought Jedao was asleep, the one Jedao eventually figured out was for his absent namesake.
"The other night dear, as I lay sleeping, I dreamed I held you in my arms. When I awoke dear, I was mistaken, And I hung my head and I cried."
I've been heartbroken, Jedao told him, but it's not just understanding. You could break my heart too, he means, just as much as he could break Edwin's. You could break my heart, but you'd still be my sunshine. He ducks his chin awkwardly to give Edwin a tiny kiss on the top of his head, then goes back to the chorus, in the same soft, lilting baritone.
He relaxes, slowly, still hanging on but not as desperately now.
Even if it turns out John was wrong, that he won't always want Yellow in his life, it doesn't mean he's alone any more. It doesn't mean he has to be alone.
"I think I made John angry but I don't know what I did."
"I asked..." He trails off, worrying now that Jedao will be upset about the conversation that made all of this seem so huge and dangerous in the first place.
"I... John and I talked about me staying with him, after I graduate."
If you graduate.
"And I asked Arthur if that would be okay. And I... I don't know. They didn't say yes. They didn't really say anything. They said words, but it was all... They didn't say yes. John said they have a few deals before they can invite anyone anywhere. But they don't think that about each other. He said he loves me, but they didn't say yes. What if--"
What if, what if, what if.
What if they don't really want him around after all? What if him being less afraid of Arthur now means that they've had a chance to get annoyed by him?
What if they think he can't do it, can't really graduate? What if they think he can't be good enough for that? They're not going to stay on the barge forever, hoping. They'll leave. What if that's why they didn't say yes, because they didn't want to tie themselves to his expected failure?
What if, what if, what if.
"John was... I don't... There was something... I don't know. There was something but he didn't say it so I don't know what it was."
"Hmm," Jedao says softly, still petting, mostly just to let Edwin know the pause is a pensive one, not an angry one.
"Well, I don't know John's mind either. But sometimes...sometimes, people choose not to say things because they can have feelings that are complicated or overwhelming just like you do. But they still really do care about you and don't want to hurt you with the mess of it. Like, for instance, right now I'm mad at Arthur and it's almost none his fault. But you want him to keep you and I'm so jealous I could spit in his pretty new eyes."
Jedao's voice stays warm and level and calm almost the whole way through. But he lets a little of the real, feral vicious flicker through the last few words.
"And I'm never going to say that to Arthur. He's my friend, and it's not even his fault, really. I don't want to be angry with him. So I'm going to have that feeling, and then let it go."
He's going to try, anyway. And he doesn't stop cuddling and petting Edwin the whole way through.
Hang on. He can't address the larger emotional picture that Jedao is painting yet, can't try to logic it apart when there's one big giant massive piece of confusion blocking the way.
"Jealous-- You're jealous of--" No, he can't have heard that right. "Why are you angry at Arthur?"
"I'm so jealous," Jedao confirms, a little bit of wry lightness in his voice; he's gotten better at laughing at himself. "I'm so jealous I could eat his heart and liver."
Like the old ghost he was supposed to be.
"And the jealous part of me keeps yelling about how he doesn't deserve to be so important to you, as if that makes any sense at all. You can't earn people. And I should be glad he is kind to you. Usually I am. That's wonderful. But also I want to gnaw on all my knucklebones about it sometimes."
Excuse him, Jedao, he's just staring at you some more, temporarily speechless. Not about the whole eating hearts and livers thing, that's whatever. It's the why of it that's got him stunned.
"You're my baby," Jedao murmurs, a tiny bit sheepishly. "I'm allowed to be a little bit insane about you, okay. I'm just not going to hurt anyone about it."
"Oh. Right. Yes. I just-- The King in Yellow." That's as much of an explanation for his reaction to that turn of phrase as he can manage.
There's another half a moment where Yellow-- no, Edwin, Edwin is safe to use again, he won't ruin the name right now if he lets himself have it. But there's a moment where he remains at a loss, then all at once the catblob sprouts a dozen tentacles to envelope Jedao's neck and shoulders in a tight-enough-to-be-problematic-for-a-human embrace.
"I'll speak more carefully next time," Jedao promises. He doesn't actually need to breathe; he doesn't flinch from the tentacles at all. He just keeps holding Edwin tight.
"Being alone is pretty scary," Jedao agrees. "That makes sense. I promise you won't be, though. No matter what happens with them."
Jedao gives him a little extra squeeze.
"Arthur isn't one to hold back on saying no if he means no, though. Do you want me to talk to John for you? Just to figure out a little more of what he's feeling?"
"...Yes," he says, very softly. "Yes. Please. And... and you don't have to tell me what it is, either, I don't want..."
This is a new set of feelings, and it takes him a moment to figure out how to describe them. "I don't want him to... I want him to talk to... someone. If there's things that... upset him. About... me. And if it's about me I don't... I don't think he'll talk to Arthur. I don't know. I don't... want him to be alone either. I just... know..."
Oh. He gets it, suddenly, the things that Jedao has said about him. What they actually mean. What they actually mean, the strange weightless ache of love without goal. "I know that even if he did hate me I want him to be happy."
"Thank you," he says quietly, an edge of something reverent and stunned in his tone.
He gets it. All at once it makes sense, why John weighs the term love like an anchor made of glass. Why he says it like a word from a book never meant to be read aloud. It's a purer thing than Edwin could have imagined before feeling it, recognizing it; a willingness to do beautiful and terrible things to make someone happy and keep them safe.
He loves John. He loves Jedao. He likes a lot of other people. But love, love is...
"You don't... You don't need to be jealous of Arthur. There's no reason at all for you to be jealous of him."
He settles at last, snuggled in and mostly-formless now, and very much not planning on vacating the sweater any time soon. "So. When you feel something bad and don't tell someone because it would hurt them, that's good."
"It's...a tool that's good to have. Sometimes, even if something hurts to hear, it's important to know. So it's good to give yourself space to think about it. If you tell someone about this feeling, will they be able to do anything about it? Like...if I did something that made you feel scared, or hurt...I would be sad to learn that. But I would also be able to apologize to you and stop doing that thing, so it would be very good to tell me. But if I tell Arthur that I'm jealous, what's he gonna do about it? Be mean to you so you like him less? I don't want him to do that! So that one can stay private. But if, maybe, I had a really bad day and I yelled at him for unrelated stuff, maybe it would be useful then, to tell him that it's not that I hated him or that he deserved it, it's that I was being kind of stupid because I was jealous. Then hopefully the useful thing is just that he feels a little better, because he understands it wasn't his fault."
That's a lot of different possibilities.
"The important thing isn't to get it exactly right every time. Nobody does that. The important thing is...that whether it hurts people should be something you consider. And it's good to consider first, because it's really easy to say big things you don't mean when you're upset, or...things you do mean but in ways that are more hurtful than they have to be. And if you don't say something, you can always say it later. But if you say things right away without thinking, you can never un-say them. Does that make sense?"
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It's sudden and strange and passing but for a moment, he doesn't want Jedao to love him. He doesn't want Jedao to love him this much, because if Jedao ever stops, if he could love this much and Edwin-- Yellow could make him stop, then there really is nothing good about Yellow that isn't just a mannerism copied from someone better.
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"No?"
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He doesn't know how to frame even half of the chaos making words hard right now. Cool, slim forelegs reach up to cling to Jedao's neck while he keeps his face hidden against his father's skin.
"what is the name of a place that everyone can see is burning...but no one can feel the effects of the smoke...or the heat of the flames...except the place...& the place is not a place but a person...& that person is the i in my poems...only it's my real life body that aches...& isn't that love...not being able to see the explosion...because you are the one holding the bomb...& the bomb is also you."
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"Yeah," Jedao says softly. "I hear you. Please let me?"
And then he starts to sing again, picking it up with the lesser-known verse, that earns the melancholy air of the melody, the part that Godric would more often sing only after he thought Jedao was asleep, the one Jedao eventually figured out was for his absent namesake.
"The other night dear, as I lay sleeping,
I dreamed I held you in my arms.
When I awoke dear, I was mistaken,
And I hung my head and I cried."
I've been heartbroken, Jedao told him, but it's not just understanding. You could break my heart too, he means, just as much as he could break Edwin's. You could break my heart, but you'd still be my sunshine. He ducks his chin awkwardly to give Edwin a tiny kiss on the top of his head, then goes back to the chorus, in the same soft, lilting baritone.
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Even if it turns out John was wrong, that he won't always want Yellow in his life, it doesn't mean he's alone any more. It doesn't mean he has to be alone.
"I think I made John angry but I don't know what I did."
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"I... John and I talked about me staying with him, after I graduate."
If you graduate.
"And I asked Arthur if that would be okay. And I... I don't know. They didn't say yes. They didn't really say anything. They said words, but it was all... They didn't say yes. John said they have a few deals before they can invite anyone anywhere. But they don't think that about each other. He said he loves me, but they didn't say yes. What if--"
What if, what if, what if.
What if they don't really want him around after all? What if him being less afraid of Arthur now means that they've had a chance to get annoyed by him?
What if they think he can't do it, can't really graduate? What if they think he can't be good enough for that? They're not going to stay on the barge forever, hoping. They'll leave. What if that's why they didn't say yes, because they didn't want to tie themselves to his expected failure?
What if, what if, what if.
"John was... I don't... There was something... I don't know. There was something but he didn't say it so I don't know what it was."
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"Well, I don't know John's mind either. But sometimes...sometimes, people choose not to say things because they can have feelings that are complicated or overwhelming just like you do. But they still really do care about you and don't want to hurt you with the mess of it. Like, for instance, right now I'm mad at Arthur and it's almost none his fault. But you want him to keep you and I'm so jealous I could spit in his pretty new eyes."
Jedao's voice stays warm and level and calm almost the whole way through. But he lets a little of the real, feral vicious flicker through the last few words.
"And I'm never going to say that to Arthur. He's my friend, and it's not even his fault, really. I don't want to be angry with him. So I'm going to have that feeling, and then let it go."
He's going to try, anyway. And he doesn't stop cuddling and petting Edwin the whole way through.
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"Jealous-- You're jealous of--" No, he can't have heard that right. "Why are you angry at Arthur?"
It can't just be over him.
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Like the old ghost he was supposed to be.
"And the jealous part of me keeps yelling about how he doesn't deserve to be so important to you, as if that makes any sense at all. You can't earn people. And I should be glad he is kind to you. Usually I am. That's wonderful. But also I want to gnaw on all my knucklebones about it sometimes."
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Jedao pets him a little more.
"It's okay. I was mostly trying to not let anybody realize. But I figured it was relevant."
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There's another half a moment where Yellow-- no, Edwin, Edwin is safe to use again, he won't ruin the name right now if he lets himself have it. But there's a moment where he remains at a loss, then all at once the catblob sprouts a dozen tentacles to envelope Jedao's neck and shoulders in a tight-enough-to-be-problematic-for-a-human embrace.
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The thought was terrifying.
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Jedao gives him a little extra squeeze.
"Arthur isn't one to hold back on saying no if he means no, though. Do you want me to talk to John for you? Just to figure out a little more of what he's feeling?"
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This is a new set of feelings, and it takes him a moment to figure out how to describe them. "I don't want him to... I want him to talk to... someone. If there's things that... upset him. About... me. And if it's about me I don't... I don't think he'll talk to Arthur. I don't know. I don't... want him to be alone either. I just... know..."
Oh. He gets it, suddenly, the things that Jedao has said about him. What they actually mean. What they actually mean, the strange weightless ache of love without goal. "I know that even if he did hate me I want him to be happy."
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"I don't think he would hate you, now that he knows you. But I'll talk to him. And I promise I'll be nice."
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He gets it. All at once it makes sense, why John weighs the term love like an anchor made of glass. Why he says it like a word from a book never meant to be read aloud. It's a purer thing than Edwin could have imagined before feeling it, recognizing it; a willingness to do beautiful and terrible things to make someone happy and keep them safe.
He loves John. He loves Jedao. He likes a lot of other people. But love, love is...
"You don't... You don't need to be jealous of Arthur. There's no reason at all for you to be jealous of him."
He squeezes Jedao tight.
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He hugs back, nuzzling the top of Edwin's head a little.
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That's a lot of different possibilities.
"The important thing isn't to get it exactly right every time. Nobody does that. The important thing is...that whether it hurts people should be something you consider. And it's good to consider first, because it's really easy to say big things you don't mean when you're upset, or...things you do mean but in ways that are more hurtful than they have to be. And if you don't say something, you can always say it later. But if you say things right away without thinking, you can never un-say them. Does that make sense?"
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Fade here?