[ It was a little strange, knowing just how badly he fucked up, the instant that it happened. He was used to the slow, silent anger. The one where he needed to fret about it for weeks, try to unpack what it was that he'd said, or done, that had caused the rift in the first place. If he could unpack it at all.

This was like light speed, compared. His hands immediately raised in a halting gesturing, hovering in front of him. ]

No, that ain't what I said. [ Gently. ] Or what I - or what I mean.

I just -- [ Hell, what did he mean? The hands lowered, and he looked miserable. ]

I just want us to be okay. That's all. I never wanted to give you a reason to look at me like that.

I'm just sayin' - you don't need to know, right now, how you're feelin' about it.

[ A pause, a pleading look. ]

... It ain't like I'm going anywhere.