[Something's wrong.]

[She says no, also. That's not what bothers him, though. He lies a lot, but he wasn't lying when he said he'd understand if she said no. But she's uncomfortable. Something he did made her uncomfortable. She isn't stuttering, but her voice sounds close to the way it does right before she starts.]

[That isn't what he wanted. His expression closes slightly, but not completely; it's more as though he pulls back a bit to regroup than pulls away entirely. There is somewhere in what he said that he went wrong. Too much, not enough, or simply incorrect? Too many people, she says, but somehow it feels like an excuse. Not even a partial truth, an excuse. But he can't say that. If someone said that to him, he would destroy them.]

That makes sense. It can be overwhelming. I think I would have had a hard time under different circumstances, too.

[If Mista hadn't been here, and Bruno, and . . .]

[Invisible from the outside, he bites the inside of his cheek. What did he do? What?]

[Without conscious thought, his voice draws back too, not formal in tone but certainly in word choice. There's safety in courtesy.]

I'm sorry if I offended you. It wasn't my intention.