He's quiet in his stalk to the kitchen, letting the water run, calming that bustle of emotions down beneath his ever steady mask. A short and small sigh fell from his lips when he felt those arms around him. He was suppose to be strong. The logical one. The steady one. The one in the know. Why would he ever want you to see these things from his past?

"It's alright," he says, quietly. Staring in to the glass of water and reaching over to turn off the tap.