“Stop, stop, stop, just stop for a sec. Okay? Just a minute, I can’t—I can’t think.” Michael moves one of his hands to the front of their chest, putting a light pressure there, and covers some of the Legos with his other one. Wolfgang’s desperation to get them all out of sight; the tiny spattering of clicks, brick-against-brick, grating against his ears every time they shove more away; the lights still dancing behind his eyes; it’s winding him up too much.
“Did I scare you? I scared you, didn’t I? Shit. I shouldn’t come in like that anymore,” he mumbles to himself, barely hearing it over the static in his skull.