[What he wants to do? Nothing, he says to himself, strongly, fiercely, and yet -
He remembers going home, both times, and standing in the shower, eyes closed, breathing hard, his back pressed against the wall of the stall. He'd gripped at his arms, and thought of the shamelessness - the whorishness he'd shown, the way he'd then been pushed down into the couch having uttered his call for freedom twice, ignored both times. He'd just thought - God, if Mavros had just listened to him, had just listened, and what sort of man claimed something "sacred" but then ignored it merely because of his -
No. He bears no grudge against him. There's no desire for any retribution. No.]
I wish to convince you of your lack of culpability.
no subject
He remembers going home, both times, and standing in the shower, eyes closed, breathing hard, his back pressed against the wall of the stall. He'd gripped at his arms, and thought of the shamelessness - the whorishness he'd shown, the way he'd then been pushed down into the couch having uttered his call for freedom twice, ignored both times. He'd just thought - God, if Mavros had just listened to him, had just listened, and what sort of man claimed something "sacred" but then ignored it merely because of his -
No. He bears no grudge against him. There's no desire for any retribution. No.]
I wish to convince you of your lack of culpability.
[But he looks away. Doesn't meet his eyes.]