Arthur's voice is still even, and his face is still turned away. He's holding himself together, but only because he's not telling the whole story.
The whole story burns the inside of his throat.
"Please don't... I don't want to be fussed over." Because he knows it's coming. He's heard so much 'sorry for your loss' over the course of his life that it just sounds like syllables now. And the irony of Crichton comforting him over this, when it's Arthur's fault, would be too sickening to stand.
no subject
Arthur's voice is still even, and his face is still turned away. He's holding himself together, but only because he's not telling the whole story.
The whole story burns the inside of his throat.
"Please don't... I don't want to be fussed over." Because he knows it's coming. He's heard so much 'sorry for your loss' over the course of his life that it just sounds like syllables now. And the irony of Crichton comforting him over this, when it's Arthur's fault, would be too sickening to stand.