“Hey. Okay.” Shit. Now Sinclair feels bad. He reaches out like he wants to calm their hands, but he stops himself nervously; they’re shaking hard enough to hurt themself, and his wrists are bare, and he can’t. His fingers curl into a fist. He sighs.
“I don’t wanna upset you. I just think if you can’t talk about it with him, you should talk about it with someone else. It’s obvious he’s important to you. Get some advice so things don’t get worse. I’m speaking from experience.”