It's on the tip of his tongue to tell her to go ahead and say her bit. A moment's thought reminds him that it's highly likely he'd panic and back away if he tries to speak without this surge of energy.
"I..." He looks from the floor to Amelia. It's a difficult move, but he needs her to see that he's earnest. "I want you to know that I'm sorry." A beat instead of a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I really am sorry."
Why is this so terrifying? Suddenly he finds himself drained and his gaze floats over to the chair furthest away from Amelia. He starts to drift over to it, hand outstretched as if he expects to fall. Part of him does. He feels weak. Sick.
"I wish I could tell you how much it means that... that you would... would care so much about me. I've done nothing to deserve it. I wish I could live up to what you see in me. I wish I could... repay what you've done for me. I wish you hadn't done so much." Finding the seat, he guides himself into it slowly. "In the end, the only thing I bring anyone is disappointment."
His head falls into his hands for a second so that he can take a deep breath and compose his expression. When they fall away, he looks at Amelia seriously. "I... I want you to know that this... this. This is no reflection on you. It's... It's my family's tradition. It's not a comment on how men, on how anyone sees you. If I could-." He stops himself, and looks at his hands again. Goes quiet. "If I could consider returning your affections... I'm sure I would." A slow, deep breath. "I-I-I wanted you to know that. I don't want you thinking badly of love because of me."
no subject
"I..." He looks from the floor to Amelia. It's a difficult move, but he needs her to see that he's earnest. "I want you to know that I'm sorry." A beat instead of a breath. "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I really am sorry."
Why is this so terrifying? Suddenly he finds himself drained and his gaze floats over to the chair furthest away from Amelia. He starts to drift over to it, hand outstretched as if he expects to fall. Part of him does. He feels weak. Sick.
"I wish I could tell you how much it means that... that you would... would care so much about me. I've done nothing to deserve it. I wish I could live up to what you see in me. I wish I could... repay what you've done for me. I wish you hadn't done so much." Finding the seat, he guides himself into it slowly. "In the end, the only thing I bring anyone is disappointment."
His head falls into his hands for a second so that he can take a deep breath and compose his expression. When they fall away, he looks at Amelia seriously. "I... I want you to know that this... this. This is no reflection on you. It's... It's my family's tradition. It's not a comment on how men, on how anyone sees you. If I could-." He stops himself, and looks at his hands again. Goes quiet. "If I could consider returning your affections... I'm sure I would." A slow, deep breath. "I-I-I wanted you to know that. I don't want you thinking badly of love because of me."