[ Maybe if this was more lighthearted, he'd goad him on, banter with him like he usually does. (Try to make it easy on him, at least.)
But he can't seem to muster up the will to do that. Guzma is so vulnerable; he can't possibly hit him now. He doesn't want to hurt him more than he's already been hurt.
Why did he ask this of him? He's not sure, any more.
His hands go up, sure enough, but it's not to hit him; it's to pull Guzma's hands away from his hair, gripping his wrists to stop him yanking at it. ]
Hey.
There's nothing wrong with you, yeah?
[ He can't look Guzma in the face right now. He's almost sure he'll cry, and he's not sure if Guzma would be able to handle it, to be honest. ]
no subject
But he can't seem to muster up the will to do that. Guzma is so vulnerable; he can't possibly hit him now. He doesn't want to hurt him more than he's already been hurt.
Why did he ask this of him? He's not sure, any more.
His hands go up, sure enough, but it's not to hit him; it's to pull Guzma's hands away from his hair, gripping his wrists to stop him yanking at it. ]
Hey.
There's nothing wrong with you, yeah?
[ He can't look Guzma in the face right now. He's almost sure he'll cry, and he's not sure if Guzma would be able to handle it, to be honest. ]