His throat feels too tight. It's not panic. Or anger.
"Thank you. For...all this. I'm sorry. I'm not -- I'm grateful." One shoulder pressed to the doorframe to keep himself steady, he worries at the towel between his hands. "I'm glad to have you as a friend. And I'm sorry I wasn't there after Adamant."
His mind only seems to be working in short, blunt sentences. There's more he wants to say, but he can't think how to phrase it, and he's too tired to try.
no subject
"Cullen."
His throat feels too tight. It's not panic. Or anger.
"Thank you. For...all this. I'm sorry. I'm not -- I'm grateful." One shoulder pressed to the doorframe to keep himself steady, he worries at the towel between his hands. "I'm glad to have you as a friend. And I'm sorry I wasn't there after Adamant."
His mind only seems to be working in short, blunt sentences. There's more he wants to say, but he can't think how to phrase it, and he's too tired to try.