[It's not nothing. It's still something Mickey doesn't know how to handle, but it's not nothing. His heart is pounding in his chest like a drum, but when he speaks up again his voice is different from before. Hoarse, cracked, like he's dried out; tired, but more than that. It's... softer.]
So don't.
[He swallows, licks his lips nervously.]
Just... don't, okay.
[Three words that hadn't been enough for Ian; he doubts they'll be enough for Stephen. He sighs, struggling for more.]
no subject
So don't.
[He swallows, licks his lips nervously.]
Just... don't, okay.
[Three words that hadn't been enough for Ian; he doubts they'll be enough for Stephen. He sighs, struggling for more.]
You don't have to. Here.