"I know." He let out knowingly, if anything it was on him, it was his fault, he knew, but god was it hard to admit.

"I know I missed up, I am sorry." He wasn't good at this, for he never messed up this badly, with the colours draining from his hands the tighter he clenched them in an attempt to ground himself, "I am sorry." He repeated, words too foreign on his lips but anything to not lose them, "Can we at least talk about it?"