(it may be cruel to watch someone flounder and not offer any help, but jonas looks at it this way: if he was confused enough to be shrill and twitching, would he want someone to draw attention to it?

no. no, he fucking would not.

when she's through talking, he nods solemnly, closing his eyes.) Yeah, and I'm still tender from it. I know, I know, I brought it up, but I think I'd rather repress the memory and move forward with my life. (the melodrama. the intrigue. a hand is placed on his cheek.

anyway.)

I'm glad you're... you... and not a stranger. I know it's kind of awkward or—well, really awkward, but I think calling that out usually makes people feel better. Or, uh... maybe that's just me.

(save these two from themselves)