Cameron nodded, his brows knitted with worry. It was clear that he shouldn't have said it; things had been a little bit awkward since Christmas, and why should it have been any different? Cameron spent their last second of true alone time admitting he loved her, and clearly she wasn't in a position to say it back, and now things were different, and—

It was a lot. He missed seeing her smile all the time, the lengths they went to to touch hands in secret. And now she'd been looking a little sadder every day, and why would it be for any other reason than her realizing she didn't feel the same?

(Was it bad to admit that his thoughts so frequently revolved around her?)

"I shouldn't have said it," he repeated, a bit more firm in his conviction. "—Not that it's any less true, but I should have known not to throw it on you so soon. And now I can see that you're unhappy, and I know I've made it awkward because I've put pressure on you. He was rambling now, but more words were better, right? More of a chance for her to grasp his meaning, less opportunity for her to misinterpret it. "And we don't spend as much time together, and I know it's because you don't feel the same—which is fine, and I don't blame you—and now I know I should have just..." He took a deep breath and lowered his voice, which was probably for the best because his throat was now sore and he was too loud anyways. "... kissed you and let you go."

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