He folds his hands into his hair, tugging at his curls as he keeps his head buried in his knees. And soon enough, he finds himself crying again. He's already under so much stress all the time, stuff like this just makes him feel like he's falling apart.
"I don't know what that is," he says softly, his voice wavering and weak. He doesn't look at her. He doesn't want to.
no subject
"I don't know what that is," he says softly, his voice wavering and weak. He doesn't look at her. He doesn't want to.