[Her lips quirk up a little bit at the latte mention, but whatever humor she found in his story disappears rapidly as he continues.]
Jesus Christ.
[This must have been a long time ago, if he's talking about it so calmly, but... Still. It's impossible to miss how neatly that all lines up. The problem is, she doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe her death was some strange replay of something awful in his past, but it's not like that's his fault. How could it be?
She shifts, pressing her shoulder into the back of the bench, floundering for a moment.]
I'm sorry. That's fucking awful. But I don't think... I mean, you don't have to apologize to me. I'm not... you know. I'm not upset with you. I still don't think it's your fault.
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Jesus Christ.
[This must have been a long time ago, if he's talking about it so calmly, but... Still. It's impossible to miss how neatly that all lines up. The problem is, she doesn't know what to do with it. Maybe her death was some strange replay of something awful in his past, but it's not like that's his fault. How could it be?
She shifts, pressing her shoulder into the back of the bench, floundering for a moment.]
I'm sorry. That's fucking awful. But I don't think... I mean, you don't have to apologize to me. I'm not... you know. I'm not upset with you. I still don't think it's your fault.