"I'm being dramatic?" Ethan repeated incredulously. "Seriously? That's what you're going to say to me. And excuse me for having emotion and for getting upset when my own parents tell me that I'm wrong for being the way that I am. And I'm not the only one that's difficult to talk to when I'm being quote unquote "dramatic, mother. I can't talk to you, ever. If I'm not being too dramatic, too emotional, it's like you can't seperate your working life from your personal life. You look at me like I'm one of your students, something you can pick apart until there's nothing left and you just can't do that."
He bit out a short sharp laugh. "There you go again, getting all cold and clinical on me. How am I supposed to talk to you when you're like this? It's like reasoning with a block of ice."
Ethan rubbed at his hair and in a movement of emotion the piece on the wall shook so hard that it fell off its fixtures and hit the ground, causing quite the clatter. "Shit," Ethan muttered hurriedly as he broke away from his mother to attend to the now ruined piece. Fuck, fuck.