With a fretful sip from his wine, Benedict watches him.
"I don't know," he admits, hunching his shoulders, "it hasn't come up again." YET. "I..."
He's silent a moment as he chews his words, "...I think I want to apologize. But I'm not sure how, especially if she doesn't even know it happened."
It's amazing that he still runs into these situations: a 28 year old with the emotional intelligence of a young teenager, still scrambling to catch up with his peers despite all the scrambling he's already done. He knows it's not a good look, works as hard as he can. At least, of all people, Vlast maybe understands.
"I'm not very good at them," he adds uncomfortably, "apologies."
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"I don't know," he admits, hunching his shoulders, "it hasn't come up again." YET. "I..."
He's silent a moment as he chews his words, "...I think I want to apologize. But I'm not sure how, especially if she doesn't even know it happened."
It's amazing that he still runs into these situations: a 28 year old with the emotional intelligence of a young teenager, still scrambling to catch up with his peers despite all the scrambling he's already done. He knows it's not a good look, works as hard as he can. At least, of all people, Vlast maybe understands.
"I'm not very good at them," he adds uncomfortably, "apologies."