[Jake looks back up. Fuck. He rubs the back of his neck, staring at the table and trying to breathe.]
No, I— Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. I wasn't— I didn't mean to hurt you again, I—
[What should he do? Dirk doesn't seem to want him to go away. It might just hurt him more if he does. But staying, speaking, hurts him too. His hands drop into his lap and he fidgets with them under the table, trying to think how he can fix this and knowing he can't.]
no subject
No, I— Don't be sorry. I'm sorry. I wasn't— I didn't mean to hurt you again, I—
[What should he do? Dirk doesn't seem to want him to go away. It might just hurt him more if he does. But staying, speaking, hurts him too. His hands drop into his lap and he fidgets with them under the table, trying to think how he can fix this and knowing he can't.]
Sorry.