[ Fuck. Fuck, because of course, of course Klaus comes down, of course Klaus notices, of course Klaus is awake and effervescent even in the light of the single streetlamp that flickers into the sole window of their shared room.
It makes Quentin feel even worse, and he groans, mostly to himself. It takes rubbing his eyes willfully with the heel of his hands and dragging them across his face as hard as he can to at least muster a word or two. ]
Yeah.
[ But that's a lie, and it's obvious, and that just adds on the pile of guilt and self loathing that makes up Quentin Coldwater, a disaster with a broken brain. He clears his throat, trying again, forcing himself to stop, and glances over at Klaus. It's quick--he can't do it, he can't look at anyone now, not without breaking again--even if that hand on his shoulder is nice and reassuring. ]
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[ Fuck. Fuck, because of course, of course Klaus comes down, of course Klaus notices, of course Klaus is awake and effervescent even in the light of the single streetlamp that flickers into the sole window of their shared room.
It makes Quentin feel even worse, and he groans, mostly to himself. It takes rubbing his eyes willfully with the heel of his hands and dragging them across his face as hard as he can to at least muster a word or two. ]
Yeah.
[ But that's a lie, and it's obvious, and that just adds on the pile of guilt and self loathing that makes up Quentin Coldwater, a disaster with a broken brain. He clears his throat, trying again, forcing himself to stop, and glances over at Klaus. It's quick--he can't do it, he can't look at anyone now, not without breaking again--even if that hand on his shoulder is nice and reassuring. ]
Uh--no. No, I'm not. Sorry, I woke you up. Fuck--