Miles, do you really fucking think I just like fucked up people because I like helping them?

[ He sounds almost angry, there, frustrated, but his touch over Miles' hand is still a strange kind of gentle, firm as his grip is. That flash of hurt in Miles' eyes -- god, he's sorry, he really shouldn't have even started this. ]

I like making it worse. Okay? [ Still angry, still frustrated, but his voice gets softer, and his eyes flicker away, has to break eye contact briefly before he forces himself to meet his eyes again. ] I take something that's broken and I break it even more. All the fucking time. That's all I ever do.

So just -- please.