He was saying it all wrong again. Or— no, he was saying it just fine, it was only that it was a big fat puddle of stupid. "I don't want to go," he said, misery drawing deep lines in his forehead. "This ain't a prison, Clio. This's where I choose to be. With you. I want to be with you."
I want to put you first, he didn't say. Your needs. Before mine. You put everyone else before yourself and you deserve someone who'll put you first.
He scrubbed a hand across his face. "I should've just... should've asked Rob over. Or summat. I thought I could beat it. Cold turkey thing."
Cold turkey. Just hearing the words come out of his mouth made his ears burn with shame. He was such a fuckstick.