It was great irony that going out to avoid Abendroth had only created more problems, and Francis found himself having the most depressing night he'd had in a while. Even if he liked to distance himself from others and rarely felt touched by matters that didn't involve him, hearing the kid plainly admit he was used to being alone in such a melancholy tone got to him. He didn't want to be comparable to Abendroth's parents, who hadn't even been willing to pick their sick son up from school without a fight. Francis was still looking forward to the day the kid moved out, but there was no reason to abuse him in the meantime.
As such, Francis had decided to try and lend himself to Abendroth – to Dietre.
Dietre.
But when Dietre asked him aloud to stay, something twisted uncomfortably in the pit of Francis' stomach. It wouldn't be on his terms anymore. He shifted uncomfortably against the warm weight at his side.
"... How about you get that cat," Francis said stiffly, fighting an internal battle as he decided whether to stay or go. Staying would be nice for Dietre, true, but Francis didn't want the kid getting attached. He didn't want to be Dietre's rock, or fill the role of parent. "Then you won't have to be alone so much. Just – don't expect me to take care of it or it's gone."
Another moment of hesitation and Francis pushed himself up from the couch, trying to ignore the way his side immediately felt the cool air push against it once Dietre's body heat was lost. "I have to get to bed," he said. "If you need a ride to get the cat, I can take you tomorrow."