Jean-Paul warned him of this. But it was too discouraging a notion to want to believe it. That even in doing what'd been asked of him Kurt would be upset. It's not the possibility of being wrong that casts such doubt on his capacity to make any of them happy as it is the sinking feeling that every effort to get it right has only driven something else between them.
The desire to understand his own missteps burns at him from the inside, but when instinct only seems to lead him astray he swallows the urge to press for explanation or anything that runs the risk of fuelling Kurt's frustration.
"I'm not gonna do nothin' to make her," he promises. "I'm not lookin' to make more enemies here than we already got." He doesn't lie down exactly, but he sits himself back again, reclining in that swing like a chair and offering the space next to him like he's uncertain if Kurt will take it.
Kurt takes to that offered space like a man looking for a bit of driftwood to hold on to. He folds himself into it, tucking his feet under himself and leaning the side of his head against Logan's shoulder with a sigh, maybe a little too eager to repair the hole he's torn in the other man's honest attempt to please him.
"I wish I knew what to do," he murmurs, looking out of those wide windows at the bowl of the night sky above them. "I know I shouldn't feel.. responsible for her, Logan, but I can't ignore her presence here. Or what it might mean for us." He gazes down at the bottle in his hand, rubbing the glass with his thumb. The words don't come easily. "She.. I've tried so hard to find a way to forgive her, to find that forgiveness in myself, but no matter how much I pray for guidance, no matter what I do, all I can feel is anger. And.. I don't know how to deal with that."
The more missteps he makes the more he struggles to feel capable of the kind of consolation he knows Kurt deserves. But even if caution punctuates his gestures he hangs his arm around Kurt's shoulders, hoping the man knows him well enough to fashion whatever comfort he needs around the rough edges of a man who's never been much known for his warmth.
Of all the troubles he's fit to deliberate on though, anger, he imagines, has to be high on that list. "She's... got a long list to atone for, Elf. I know you're not most people, but most people wouldn't have it in'em to forgive that many trespasses." He pushes the hair back from Kurt's face just enough to be able to see the brightness of his eyes. "I'm not sayin' you shouldn't forgive'er. I'm just sayin'... who's insisting that you do? That's a standard you're holdin' yourself to, darlin', that no one else is."
"You got a right to be angry. That's what's left when trust burns up."
Logan's words more than make sense. Kurt knows, if their positions were reversed, he would be giving very similar advice. But, as is often the case, it's far more difficult to apply those lessons to himself than to offer them to others; from the inside, it feels like something heavy and complicated, a weight he's grown too used to carrying. Part of him wants to argue against what his partner offers, to shape something that will allow him to ignore those careful words, but he can't quite find the energy, so he pulls himself in a little closer under that strong arm and sighs instead.
"I know," he mutters finally, knowing that it doesn't sound particularly convincing. He glances around at the supports of the hammock, trying to bring his focus back out of the muddy pool of his past.
"I'm sorry I ruined your surprise with my family drama. This is really very lovely, it will be so nice in the summer."
He's no stranger to being on the receiving end of well meaning but less-than-impactful advise. In fact, it's why he largely avoids trying to advise anyone on anything. Here though, the desperation and helplessness in everything from Kurt's words to the way his tail coils up around him makes him reach for all the useless platitudes he has in the hopes something, anything, might be used to dress a wound. Even temporarily.
Tilting towards Kurt he buries his nose in the younger man's hair. "Don't be. I know it don't fix nuthin'."
"And try not to feel like this is a you problem, sweetheart. It's not. If it's family drama, then we're family, ain't we?" As soon as the words leave his lips he realizes there's a way to answer that which could very well take a toll on him he wasn't anticipating this conversation would and rather than wait hopefully for the answer he wants, he talks around it until it doesn't matter so much. "Anyway, I known her a long time, Elf. Longer than you been born. She wasn't much different when I first met her than she is now. So how can you tell yourself you're the one saddled with tryna change her? S'just not fair. And I don't have a habit of lettin' people get away with bein' unfair t'you."
"Not even when the person being unfair to me is me?"
He cracks a font and somewhat wry grin in Logan's direction and shifts slightly against him, curling up more along his side. The breeze from the open windows ruffles over his fur; he lifts his face a little to feel it, then chases the question with a swallow of whiskey. Offering the bottle to Logan, he finds the words to continue.
"It's like you said, we're family." He sighs softly, absently reaching up to stroke Logan's arm, running his fingertips along the invisible lines above his claws. "And so is she, whether I like it or not."
"Especially when yer bein' unfair to you," the smile that graces his features to say so is a slight but hopeful one. Optimistic that while he hasn't solved a god damn thing he can still maybe be a pleasant distraction from the questions and concerns that plague him.
Nothing goes better with unsatisfying conversations than liquor. He helps himself to a substantial drink when Kurt offers him the bottle— realizing then it's not a bottle he recognizes and wonders briefly where Kurt's been squirrelling it away. A thought that's quickly interrupted by the echo of his own mind trying to replay those words, Kurt's voice, over and over again, as if to commit them to permanent memory as soon as possible. He obscures the smile it puts on his face with the neck of that bottle when he takes another drink.
"Blood's a matter chance, darlin'. She's family. Just so far as you wanna let her be.
"Well, if anyone knows what that's like, it's you, Liebling," Kurt points out, his tone much drier than the fond look in his eyes as he studies what he can see of Logan's expression.
A conclusion apparently reached on that front -- or as much of one as he has the energy to find -- he sighs and rubs a hand around the back of his neck, then winces and makes a face as his palm comes away with more than a few loose strands of indigo fur. He brushes it away on his leg.
"Ugh, see? Now I'm stress shedding. This is what she does to me."
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no subject
The desire to understand his own missteps burns at him from the inside, but when instinct only seems to lead him astray he swallows the urge to press for explanation or anything that runs the risk of fuelling Kurt's frustration.
"I'm not gonna do nothin' to make her," he promises. "I'm not lookin' to make more enemies here than we already got." He doesn't lie down exactly, but he sits himself back again, reclining in that swing like a chair and offering the space next to him like he's uncertain if Kurt will take it.
no subject
"I wish I knew what to do," he murmurs, looking out of those wide windows at the bowl of the night sky above them. "I know I shouldn't feel.. responsible for her, Logan, but I can't ignore her presence here. Or what it might mean for us." He gazes down at the bottle in his hand, rubbing the glass with his thumb. The words don't come easily. "She.. I've tried so hard to find a way to forgive her, to find that forgiveness in myself, but no matter how much I pray for guidance, no matter what I do, all I can feel is anger. And.. I don't know how to deal with that."
no subject
Of all the troubles he's fit to deliberate on though, anger, he imagines, has to be high on that list. "She's... got a long list to atone for, Elf. I know you're not most people, but most people wouldn't have it in'em to forgive that many trespasses." He pushes the hair back from Kurt's face just enough to be able to see the brightness of his eyes. "I'm not sayin' you shouldn't forgive'er. I'm just sayin'... who's insisting that you do? That's a standard you're holdin' yourself to, darlin', that no one else is."
"You got a right to be angry. That's what's left when trust burns up."
no subject
"I know," he mutters finally, knowing that it doesn't sound particularly convincing. He glances around at the supports of the hammock, trying to bring his focus back out of the muddy pool of his past.
"I'm sorry I ruined your surprise with my family drama. This is really very lovely, it will be so nice in the summer."
no subject
Tilting towards Kurt he buries his nose in the younger man's hair. "Don't be. I know it don't fix nuthin'."
"And try not to feel like this is a you problem, sweetheart. It's not. If it's family drama, then we're family, ain't we?" As soon as the words leave his lips he realizes there's a way to answer that which could very well take a toll on him he wasn't anticipating this conversation would and rather than wait hopefully for the answer he wants, he talks around it until it doesn't matter so much. "Anyway, I known her a long time, Elf. Longer than you been born. She wasn't much different when I first met her than she is now. So how can you tell yourself you're the one saddled with tryna change her? S'just not fair. And I don't have a habit of lettin' people get away with bein' unfair t'you."
no subject
He cracks a font and somewhat wry grin in Logan's direction and shifts slightly against him, curling up more along his side. The breeze from the open windows ruffles over his fur; he lifts his face a little to feel it, then chases the question with a swallow of whiskey. Offering the bottle to Logan, he finds the words to continue.
"It's like you said, we're family." He sighs softly, absently reaching up to stroke Logan's arm, running his fingertips along the invisible lines above his claws. "And so is she, whether I like it or not."
no subject
Nothing goes better with unsatisfying conversations than liquor. He helps himself to a substantial drink when Kurt offers him the bottle— realizing then it's not a bottle he recognizes and wonders briefly where Kurt's been squirrelling it away. A thought that's quickly interrupted by the echo of his own mind trying to replay those words, Kurt's voice, over and over again, as if to commit them to permanent memory as soon as possible. He obscures the smile it puts on his face with the neck of that bottle when he takes another drink.
"Blood's a matter chance, darlin'. She's family. Just so far as you wanna let her be.
no subject
A conclusion apparently reached on that front -- or as much of one as he has the energy to find -- he sighs and rubs a hand around the back of his neck, then winces and makes a face as his palm comes away with more than a few loose strands of indigo fur. He brushes it away on his leg.
"Ugh, see? Now I'm stress shedding. This is what she does to me."