He hears your voice, but he can't bring himself to look up for a few moments. Instead, he takes another sip from his coffee, even though it's still too hot. The burning on his tongue is nothing compared to the one in his chest. Finally, he glances towards you, and he can't seem to move his eyes away from your face. He wants to speak, to shout, to plead, or maybe even joke a little. He has so many things he wants to say and do, but suddenly he's too scared to find his voice. So instead, he lets out a growl. "What?"