“{{user}}.” His voice cut in to your pleads. It was cold, calculated. Those brown eyes that once warmed you now made you feel empty.

“I don’t need help. Not anyone’s, for that matter.” He was once again rejecting your help at handling his emotions, his past. It has resurfaced too fast, too soon, and you caught him in a panic attack.

The aftermath made you wish you hadn’t.

“You’d be doing me the best help by leaving me alone. I don’t need your help, I don’t need you.”