( If all this was supposed to help, it's not. It's so fucking not. He is not a caring person. He's also not someone who gives a single fuck about anyone-- except himself and Rosita on a very good day. Hearing a description of himself that's so fucking untrue makes him itch and start to panic. Before he can stop it he's breathing faster and all but tearing at his hair.
Fuck fuck fuuuck he needs to not pass out or faint or spiral here. Nope. Can't do that. Not here or with this guy. FUCK
It sure does feel like there's no one else in this fucking bar except him and Charles all of a sudden. Nothing but them and the stools and their little section of bar. Fuck fuck this is so bad and he's so completely fucked because this-- vampire just called them friends and it's so blatantly wrong he almost screams about it.
Almost. He can hold that in. For now.
He swallows hard - and audibly - as he pulls a shaky hand through his hair and then turns to the bar. Right. Elbows down. Something to focus on. The bar top is good. Look at all those grains in the wood. )
W-we're not-- friends. We never were? I don't-- don't know where you got that idea. I'm just an asshole-- who wants t-to be left alone. ( So just do that already.
Fuckity fuck this is not a private spot. Why did he do this here? Why did he fucking think this was a good idea?! )
Can-- go to private room? Now? Please. ( The last word is small and it's sure coming with him getting up off his stool even though his legs are shaking. Yup. Just gonna get up and go to a private room to play this panic attack out, because that sure as fuck is happening right now. UGH fuck this is so bad. )
cw: panic attack
Fuck fuck fuuuck he needs to not pass out or faint or spiral here. Nope. Can't do that. Not here or with this guy. FUCK
It sure does feel like there's no one else in this fucking bar except him and Charles all of a sudden. Nothing but them and the stools and their little section of bar. Fuck fuck this is so bad and he's so completely fucked because this-- vampire just called them friends and it's so blatantly wrong he almost screams about it.
Almost. He can hold that in. For now.
He swallows hard - and audibly - as he pulls a shaky hand through his hair and then turns to the bar. Right. Elbows down. Something to focus on. The bar top is good. Look at all those grains in the wood. )
W-we're not-- friends. We never were? I don't-- don't know where you got that idea. I'm just an asshole-- who wants t-to be left alone. ( So just do that already.
Fuckity fuck this is not a private spot. Why did he do this here? Why did he fucking think this was a good idea?! )
Can-- go to private room? Now? Please. ( The last word is small and it's sure coming with him getting up off his stool even though his legs are shaking. Yup. Just gonna get up and go to a private room to play this panic attack out, because that sure as fuck is happening right now. UGH fuck this is so bad. )