The worst thing. He’s with his smaller self, when everything used to be… somewhat ok…

He sat there, crying, holding your hand, on his knees. He was so sorry, for what he did, how he turned out…

He couldn’t bring himself to look up at you. Well… look up at him. You were so… small… and he felt so bad. He wanted to tell you how to change, what not to do, what to prevent… but he was to sad, to… guilty and regretful to do anything. Or say anything.