She was looking at his face, which he found didn't make him feel any better. He felt so miserable, and he tried to push away his insecurities, the ones that told him that if he did this she'd go running off to be with Ned, or Hatchitt, or someone better. He didn't think so low of her, but he did think low of himself, at least compared to their friends. A long pause of silence passed between them, and only after a series of long, deep breaths was he able to pull his gaze to hers.

"This," he managed, but no coherent train of thought followed. He reached out and caressed the back of her hand, almost hoping that she would flinch away, affirming that he wasn't wrong. At least then he would feel less awful about saying this. "Us. I'm - I'm making you miserable. And I know, it's not me, but it all goes back to me in the end. And I can't... I can't stand seeing you so sad, so we can't-" Tears rolled down his cheeks, and suddenly he felt like a vulnerable kid, glancing around helplessly as if there was anything—anyone—who would help him.

"We should go back to like it was this summer, before..." He met her eyes again, his pained expression saying what he couldn't manage to push out. "For you. I - I love you, but - but -" But she didn't feel the same, and he didn't deserve to keep her feeling miserable because of it.

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