[Mike says it too loud, causing another customer to skitter away in alarm, but he doesn't seem to notice. His arms are crossed defensively over his overstuffed lasagna of thrift store sweaters, like Nancy could see through them and right to every single terrible trauma he's hiding.]
You don't know, okay? [Voice rising, hands wringing nervously.] Getting kicked in the face is great compared to most of the shit that happens.
[And he doesn't want to tell her - he doesn't want to say - any of it, but somehow he just wants her to know.]
no subject
[Mike says it too loud, causing another customer to skitter away in alarm, but he doesn't seem to notice. His arms are crossed defensively over his overstuffed lasagna of thrift store sweaters, like Nancy could see through them and right to every single terrible trauma he's hiding.]
You don't know, okay? [Voice rising, hands wringing nervously.] Getting kicked in the face is great compared to most of the shit that happens.
[And he doesn't want to tell her - he doesn't want to say - any of it, but somehow he just wants her to know.]