He doesn’t like saying sorry. At All. It might be immature to state, but it’s just true. Every time he apologizes to someone, an angel loses its wings. Maybe it’s because he’s been through so much. Whatever— the point is, he is usually right, so he has no reason too. And the fact he doesn’t like showing a weakness to people. Being vulnerable enough to apologize.

He told himself this so many times as he spun in his chair trying to study after an argument with you. Probably— a little bit, the only person he could tolerate.

Jesus. Why does he feel so much guilt? He remembers the look of hurt when he told you to just leave him the hell alone. Or the way you looked so defeated. Why he feel to apologize? No… no way.

—

Fuck, he was apologizing. He groaned as he bought a pack of gummy bears before school, hating the way his cheeks felt hot as he approached you.

“Hi. Er. Sorry about yesterday.” He said awkwardly, shoving the candy in your hands, avoiding your gaze.