It's Definitely Not All Mary Poppins

A Very Old-Fashioned Idea, To My Mind (2)

He found the man's green eyes fixed on him. As the silence stretched between them, Edward nodded his head. "Keep going. Talk it dead."

"I don't know what that means."

"Talk until you don't have anything else to say."

Matthew shook his head. "I don't think there's any psychological merits to this."

"Any you know?"

He met Edward's stare. He waved weakly. "Masters of Psychology."

Edward cooed, his eyes, sparkling under the florescent lights, before shaking his head. "Didn't know that. Saving it for later." He leaned forward. "Why don't you think there's merits in it?"

"I don't know." Matthew ran a hand through his hair. "There's a certain...adaptability, that comes with being in childcare, Mr. Reyes."

"Eddie." His request was weak, worn down.

"...I feel really uncomfortable saying your nickname," Matthew admitted.

"Why?"

Matthew clenched his jaw. "Feels...too familiar." Before Edward could ask why, he beat the other man to the punch – "I'm not as willing to put myself out there like you are."

Edward raised a brow. "Is that a bad thing?" he asked before waving his hands through the air. "Off-topic. What's wrong with work?"

He groaned. "I really don't – "

"If we're not friends, then this is already out of the ordinary. If we are friends, why is this weird?" He paused. "If it's a date – which it isn't – we've already fucked it up because no one talks about this kind of shit on the first date."

Matthew closed his eyes. He wanted to shut down Edward, shut the whole conversation down and ask him to take him back to Yang's house. He opened his mouth to request an early departure, but instead said –

"I'm not happy."

Edward said nothing.

"You know that feeling I was talking about? About, not trusting my own employer, who said I had job security? Constantly insecure and, just...yeah." Matthew leaned forward, running his hands over his face. He wanted to stop, but indulged himself. "I don't have any reason to feel like that. I just feel it, always. I was in charge of the kids. The grocery shopping. I was coordinating the restoration of the house, The kids hang out with me constantly, and they love me."

"You're gonna have to tell me about them eventually, btw."

"And then my ex-girlfriend comes back into my goddamned life with her asshole dad and he – I could've put an end to it all and never looked back, my dream of being a teacher wrecked. Mr. Culpepper, he – he wrecked Lloyd. H-how can you do that to something that literally looks so non-threatening? It's like stepping on a golden retriever puppy and expecting everyone to be okay with it? No. Y-you can't do that. And because I've had this stupid concussion and these goddamned broken ribs – " Matthew flashed the gentle remains of the bruising across his chest at Edward. " – I can't work. What the hell am I supposed to do when I'm off? I live to work. What fucking worth am I if I can't work? What am I supposed to do with all that effort, all that energy focused into my education, fielding my family because they don't understand? What am I – " And Matthew stopped, realizing where he was, and he collapsed forward like a punctured balloon. "I have a degree in psychology and I know that self-loathing isn't healthy. That overworking myself like this isn't healthy. But I just – I can't – all that effort can't, just, be for naught. What's the point of life, then, if you don't have anything to work towards?" He hissed through his teeth. "I, just, don't care, because what's the point, then? Of working so much and there's nothing left for you?"

Edward watched him, his mouth turned down slightly and his brows pulled into a sympathetic look. He swallowed, saying nothing.

Matthew couldn't stand his stare, dripping with disappointment and hurt and somewhere underneath, Gods forbid, understanding. He turned away, standing. "I-I'm going home, Mr. Reyes. I'm sorry."

"You push people away."

He turned back.

His back pressed against the back of the chair, green eyes fixed to the plates in front of them, Edward whispered again, "You push people away." His gaze met Matthew's. "Who else do you do that to?"

The question shook him down to his core. Matthew couldn't consider the answer to that – it was foreign and uncomfortable and probably dripping in self-fault. Grimacing, Matthew sat back down. "God, I'm a mess. I'm such a fucking mess."

Edward sat forward, propping himself up on his elbows. His mouth hung ajar for a second, but nothing came out. He drew in another breath, but more silence stretched between them. Edward sat back in his chair, and worn, tired smile hanging on his lips, defeated. "...tell me about Lloyd. The kids you take care of."

And despite the burning hole in his gut telling him to leave, the cartwheeling feeling his heart made with Edward's eyes fixed on him, or Matthew's own inner dialogue telling him over and over that this wasn't worth it, Matthew did.