[If it hadn't been for that initial incident, he'd probably have a very different sense of the guy. He rubs at his neck, looking off to the side, uncomfortable. He's told a few people about this by now, and it's difficult every time. He always feels like his throat is closing up around the words.]
It--it wasn't exactly murder. I just. Fucked up.
[Even now, that doesn't feel like the truth. Not with Amada's voice still in his ears, a track on endless repeat, whenever he so chooses to tune in--you murdered her!]
no subject
[If it hadn't been for that initial incident, he'd probably have a very different sense of the guy. He rubs at his neck, looking off to the side, uncomfortable. He's told a few people about this by now, and it's difficult every time. He always feels like his throat is closing up around the words.]
It--it wasn't exactly murder. I just. Fucked up.
[Even now, that doesn't feel like the truth. Not with Amada's voice still in his ears, a track on endless repeat, whenever he so chooses to tune in--you murdered her!]