We have to be nice to each other - those words made him ache so much he wanted to be sick again. He felt them, right in the heart of who he was, but lately, with Lust, with Sloth, being nice had fallen by the wayside. Being honest with his friends had fallen by the wayside. And now some sweet girl was giving him Fanta and money and kindness and life advice and it was too much, too heavy, too awful, too kind. “Thank you,” he rasped, burning raw with shame, finding it too hard to even look at her again.