[ Okay, that. That hurt. Jefferson does know how to use his words as weapons, and Madison knows, some way, that the reason he's using these words is because Jefferson knows that Madison does, and did, trust him, and the breaking of that trust is a wound that's not mending. Even if he doesn't know just how deeply the knife goes, Thomas knows it's not glancing off.

And knowing that just. It's too much.

Madison hunches his shoulder, squeezing his eyes for a moment to stop any hint of tears, and focuses on the damn edits.

It's only as he turns a page that he grinds between his teeth, without even looking up, ]

I am not my soulmate's soulmate. And I could not bear your pity. I don't think I can bear this any better, so there. Have your reason.

[ His hands seem to just be resting on the desk, on each side of the pages that he's been working on... except his knuckles are so tight they're almost white, just pressing down on the desk.

To keep them from shaking. ]