[ He can't help but flinch out of reflex — don't bring up God in this. Not that he's so sensitive but yeah, vulnerability and lowering his guard and some things are so ingrained in his very spine that he can't help himself.
He squirms himself out of Jack's grip to reach for the pen and napkin again, turning it over and jotting down a sentence. He doesn't trust his voice to properly convey what he wants to say.
Good people always do what's worst for them. Trust me on that. ]