Sam dropped his gaze, shoulders sinking with all that, wishing he could get angry, but not finding it in him to be truly upset over respecting someone else's wishes. He knew Derek would be aware of the mix of emotions radiating off of him, an excitable angel jammed into the body of a teenager (nearly not, but close enough) trying to manage the ups and downs of hormones he'd never had to work with before.
"I'm sorry for forgetting my place," he said softly, knowing both of them would hear words Mitchell had never taught him to say and the emotion he was fighting to keep out of it. Be polite. Deal with these men like he would've archangels. Though, to be fair, his general method for dealing with archangels had been to avoid them at all costs.
He had asked. And what else was he supposed to think with Derek all pressed close and saying things like that in his ear. How else was he supposed to respond to rampant paranoia other than to clear the air immediately? "If you'll excuse me for a moment, I need a little space to calm myself." Embarrassment didn't sit well on his shoulders. He didn't wait for a response, just took the phone off speaker and offered it back to Derek. His bag would stay where it was on the ground. He wasn't going to go far. A few feet at most.