[The familiar lump in his throat swells at those tender words. How long has he wanted to hear those words? Now that he has, he finds his flimsy walls crumbling. He swallows the first whimper that almost escapes him, but he can't stop the second as his hands tremble around the cup.
His voice, too, shakes.]
Why . . . why does it have to be now? I don't deserve those words . . . I didn't do anything . . .
no subject
His voice, too, shakes.]
Why . . . why does it have to be now? I don't deserve those words . . . I didn't do anything . . .