Scott wanted to pull away, but there was something stopping him. Something not allowing him to recoil in horror as she insisted she needed him. And he wanted to scream that he didn't, but his protests died in his throat.
He did. He did need her. No one else would ever love him. No one else even liked him.
'Don't that show I care?'
Scott nodded in her grip, his insides squirming with discomfort, rebelling against- something. Something he couldn't see or hear. "I'm sorry," he whispered.