Thing was, he didn't quite remember where it was that Fletcher had begun to upset him. Perhaps it was petty or perhaps it was the fact he was already at his wits end by the end of the week, but the way Fletcher had blown him off just seemed to strike a chord with Tiberius that evening. Here he was fretting over the outcome of a meeting with his father, which was quite evidently brought on by his recent sightings out with Fletcher, worrying so much about trying to stand up for himself and keep things the way they were, that having Fletcher just push him down for asking questions seemed to bother him. A lot.
He knew he was acting childish by cutting Fletcher off, by saying goodnight abruptly, but at the time he hadn't cared. He had tossed the journal away and wished he could wake Lili to speak with him, but he did not. He knew that wouldn't be fair to her. So he sat alone, fumming in the main room of the house, tapping his fingers against the arm of the couch. He tried to busy himself and tried to lighten his mood, but to no avail. He didn't even realize just how badly his mood was and how emotional he was getting until he placed his face into the palm of his hand, sucking in a breath to keep himself from letting a sob break.
He had been in this position now, with silent tears pressing against his tightly shut eyelids, when he heard the door. Right, Door. It could have easily been Rae or Veri, as they had gone out earlier, but he knew it wasn't. When he heard his name, he clenched his eyes even tighter together. He used to fear letting Fletcher see him crying, always tried to avoid it, because he wanted the man to be proud of him.
How could he now allow him to see and to know that the reason for the display was because of him?
He shifted further down into the sofa, though he knew Fletcher was bound to find him, but he did not call out in response. He felt as if he didn't want to see him, when in truth, he wanted nothing more. It was quite painful feeling pulled in two directions of action at once.