He stops and stills the moment that question falls. Part of him wishes that Dodger hadn't asked it. It doesn't sound like he's talking just of this. There's a lot of things he could say. He isn't sure what good he could pull out.
"I don't know," He says. "I don't want to think." That much is true. "There's too much and I just... don't want to. If I let myself I might scream." Too much honesty. "Can we say I'm okay? We've already put me back together today and I want you. I'm okay enough. Please."
That last word is a different tone, breathy, begging. He pulls the heat of Dodger closer to him.
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"I don't know," He says. "I don't want to think." That much is true. "There's too much and I just... don't want to. If I let myself I might scream." Too much honesty. "Can we say I'm okay? We've already put me back together today and I want you. I'm okay enough. Please."
That last word is a different tone, breathy, begging. He pulls the heat of Dodger closer to him.