[Tate doesn't see it as a rejection - he doesn't see it as anything but an honest feeling. He wants to be able to say he's someone who belongs, who would be able to live an honest life without someone giving him a side eye. Without feeling like he's going to boil over at the slightest provocation. Without the bloody walls and staggered whispers in his head. He wishes he was what people hoped he'd be - even if he resents the notion of thinking that way solely because of the insurmountable void inside him from knowing he'll never be.
He's breathing hard when Derek speaks, looking down at his hands before quickly glancing back up. Tate's hopeful, for a breath, hinging on what Derek's saying with a furrowed brow and a small lean in his direction. He may not be perfect but Derek claims he's not necessarily broken in contrast.]
I... I know that. I - I just.
[His eyes are wet and he rubs at them with the back of his hand, feeling heat flourish in his cheeks from the embarrassment of crying so easily. Paired with the tiredness that still leeches from his bones, he just wants to curl up and sleep while he still feels protected in some capacity.]
Why's it have to be so hard? It never works out for me.
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He's breathing hard when Derek speaks, looking down at his hands before quickly glancing back up. Tate's hopeful, for a breath, hinging on what Derek's saying with a furrowed brow and a small lean in his direction. He may not be perfect but Derek claims he's not necessarily broken in contrast.]
I... I know that. I - I just.
[His eyes are wet and he rubs at them with the back of his hand, feeling heat flourish in his cheeks from the embarrassment of crying so easily. Paired with the tiredness that still leeches from his bones, he just wants to curl up and sleep while he still feels protected in some capacity.]
Why's it have to be so hard? It never works out for me.