( there it is. inevitable disappointment. dick hates himself a bit for putting that anxious look of turmoil on rafa's features -- maybe he should've just let a dance be a dance, and have that be the end of it. it's hard for him, letting go. being reasonable about things instead of barreling into them, guns blazing, heart on his sleeve. he likes rafa too. it's a problem he's trying to deal with.

but he can't just let rafa look -- like that. sad, defeated. heartbroken. dick's eyebrows twist together, somewhat at a loss, before he clasps a hand over rafa's worried fingers, shaking his head. )

Rafa, please no more apologies between us. It's not your fault. ( he shakes his head, a struggle for words evident on his downturned face. he excels at fucking most of everything up. ) I find you attractive, but it's -- it's not supposed to work out, for me, like that. And I'm not drunk enough to have this conversation yet, so.

( he props rafa's chin with the bend of his knuckle, just for a second before he makes his leave, headed towards the bar. )