the progress project [3]

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everett

he needs a moment to breathe.

to just comprehend what he's done. he officially ended it with aidan. he's trying to persuade derek that he's the one that he wants. his mind is a whirlwind of emotions. the sadness fills most of it, and it shouldn't. he sorted everything out, it should be easy now.

but it isn't. why isn't it? why can't the past be done with him?

"hey," derek murmurs, still dressed in his suit from earlier. he keeps his distance, yet still sits at the table, hands noticeably shaking.

"hey," he whispers back, heart clenching. "i didn't think you'd come."

"well, i did."

"i'm sor—"

"don't." derek raises a hand to silence him, chewing on his bottom lip and releasing it from his teeth. "don't apologize. i'm done with apologies right now. all i want is some normalcy."

"... how's your program going?"

derek shrugs and sips his water, not even trying to cover up the look on his face, as if someone had taken a piss in his cereal this morning. "fine. it isn't easy being a gay intern for a firm that preaches about its lawyers fighting against discrimination, but then these lawyers also discriminate each other based on who someone loves or the color of someone's skin."

"that's fucked up," everett says simply. "you'd think that the changed times would also change the old ways people think, but that bullshit isn't gone, no matter how hard we fight for it."

"and you know what else is fucked up?" derek spits, practically throwing his burrito across the room. "it's fucked up that the same people that say there shouldn't be a restriction on guns are the same people that say that abortions shouldn't be legal. and you want to know who decides this? old white guys that assume they have the right to tell a woman what she can and can't do with her body. how many innocent fucking people have guns killed? so many people, and students, and children, and parents, have died from a gun. the amount of school shootings the united states has had is sickening. but no, 'it's the person that kills, not the gun.' then it isn't the fucking woman that kills her baby, it's the method she uses to get the abortion. i mean, honestly, since when should a man be deciding whether or not a woman should be able to get rid of her baby if she can't financially support it, or she isn't ready, or she doesn't want to give birth to the child of rapist, or whatever? it's bullshit!"

"it's okay," everett reaches across the table and takes his hand, déjà vu from a diner so long ago.

derek retracts his hand and puts both of them in his lap. "sorry. i'm just pissed off right now."

"will you ever forgive me?"

"maybe," the brunette responds, falling out of his trance. he and everett finish their meals in silence.