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2015-11-12 09:10 pm (UTC)
It's like there's a physical wall slicing up between the two of them, with Moritz shrinking away from its size and violent emergence. He's terrified, and in turn alarmed at his own terror; he's so despairingly negative about this that it takes on a life of its own, and that side of him is winning. Has been for months.
Moritz barely hears Morgan over the roaring in his ears, and the guilty reminder of what he'd decided to do. The desperate reminder. Wouldn't that be simpler than watching this stranger realize what a mistake he'd made? All those other strangers that this Morgan has apparently approached over his short life, and Moritz is ready to bet his life savings that he's about to be the most disappointing.
His breathing is staccato, ragged, keeping time like a middle school band. When he reaches up to brush a bead of sweat back from his right temple, his fingers are practically vibrating. "It's-- Ah-- listen, Ah gotta-- Ah've got somethin' Ah should be doin', so I-I-- Ah'm just gonna--" Throughout the stammering, Moritz gestures vaguely
, even though they've almost exactly followed the route back to his own dorm. He's begun to back up, back towards the corner that lead them almost-there, and it's only those damnable polite habits that keep him from outright turning and running.
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