An admission that resonates fiercely through the air like struck crystal -- Robert's eyes grow rounder as he hears it. No one admits their faults, not especially around Robert, who usually sits higher up the leader board than many on how shitty a person has been in their life. Someone always eventually accuses him of being worse, so reliably that it's pointless to compare failures.

Hannibal's admission is in forgiveness of Robert's faults. When was the last time anyone has done that for him? He remembers. He just wishes he didn't.

Exactly what Daddy wants -- it can't be true. Robert isn't right for anything. He wasn't good for Marilyn, he isn't good for Val, he wasn't even quite right enough for Joseph. Is Hannibal just telling him what he thinks he wants to hear? Robert feels something desperate boil up, confused and perhaps frustrated. His hand pulls on Hannibal's shirt more earnestly as he struggles with the thoughts fumbling around in his head.

"Until I'm not good enough. Until I disappoint you. I won't get better, Daddy."

Robert believes it isn't his choice. He believes that a broken glass can't fix itself. He doesn't believe in himself to bother trying anymore.

...Fuck. Robert feels his throat closing in under an invisible pressure, like a snake coiling around his neck. Daddy doesn't exist forever, Hannibal doesn't love him that way, he must be even less invested in Robert than anyone he's been with in the past. "...And you'll leave too."