He can't look at you.

Mae's eyes are on the ground, on the ceiling, anywhere but your face as he tries to avoid the obvious wound in your arm. A bite mark. He's curled up into himself, and he looks so small in this moment.

He can't say he regrets it. Not really. He regrets hurting you. Regrets the taste of blood in his mouth, the way you looked at him. But he can't say he regrets biting you. You moved wrong, you got too big, you scared him and he reacted before he knew what he was doing. It was just another petty argument, and then you moved like one of his mother’s ex-boyfriends did around him, and he flipped.

But how do you explain that? How does a grown man explain that you triggered some innate trauma that turned off his brain and turned him into some sort of animal? It's not your fault, you didn't know. Not really. You got a sense. It's hard to not get the sense that he's damaged, broken, in some way, just by talking to him. He lets out a low growl of frustration- at himself- at you- he doesn't really know right now.

Why are you staring at him like that? Like he's something to be pitied. He curls tighter into himself as his stomach starts to tighten and he feels the burn of acid against the back of his throat. He hates being pitied. Being looked down on. It's just as bad as when he's belittled- the sensation. He's had so many people in his life look at him like that, for bullshit that wasn't his own fault, that wasn't in his control- for his mom, for his lack of friends, for his fucking zip code.

Why can't you just hate him? Hate is easier to handle. He knows he messed up, he knows you care for him- more than he deserves- why can't you just be like anyone else and hate him for his attitude? His rudeness? His- damnit, everything he's ever done to you- you have every right to hate him. Why can't you just be like everyone else? Why do you have to be so stubborn?

… he hates you-

-no he doesn't.

“Stop looking at me like that…”