#i wonder if you understand how much it means to know you. ⟹ futurecomposed ; dominique de sade.

[antisatiric]

[  INCOHERENT  ] : while sick/feverish/intoxicated/otherwise incoherent, the sender tells the receiver that they love them, leaving the receiver to figure out if they meant it or not. | from domi?

They've both had a little bit too much to drink, but Twain's clearheaded enough to feel every bit of the cold air on his exposed skin, jacket sacrificed to provide Domi a clean spot to sit in an act of teasing chivalry somewhat uncharacteristic of Twain. If his inhibitions are loosened, that being his most telling act of the night is probably a mercy.

It's never the right time to say something to Domi, but he hadn't wanted to say something now. It's probably because he's a writer, but he'd wanted his own confession of feelings to be... Well, maybe not perfect, but he'd wanted it to be something specific. He'd wanted to feel a certain way before saying them.

But Domi is more drunk than him, whether she shares that desire or not.

It doesn't really surprise Twain that she says it. If it were louder, he might not have heard---but there's nobody here but them, no interruptions that could make those words less clear. It's not surprising, but it's jarring. Strange. It makes him happy to hear and conflicted and confused all at the same time.

I love you, she says.

He believes her, of course. He hears it in every conversation lately, every jab passed back and forth between them. He's probably said it a lot himself, too, in more ways than he even realizes. But here, she's saying it. She makes no room for ambiguity, and Twain can't even place the blame on some drunk fabrication.

Never saying it had made understanding it just a little bit easier, though. Now, he feels stuck in the realization that Domi had probably wanted, actively, to say it.

He doesn't remember the last time someone said that to him in earnest. He's not sure there was a time before every 'I love you' was said snidely, with intent to send him on his way back into line. The last time was here and now, and there's a chance Domi won't remember when she wakes up in the morning, and they'll carry on as usual.

"I know," Twain says, softly but with certainty. "I..."

I don't think I've really been this close to crying for a long, long time.

"... I love you too." And if you don't remember, I'll say it again when you will.

ways to say i love you. / accepting.