It actually doesn't take him too long to collect himself. After the initial, unavoidable break, he forces himself to refocus and breathe, and to consentrate on relaxing his muscles and finding calm... It was something Sable had showed him how to do -- or rather, reminded him, and made him do it. It doesn't stop the tears, but it does halt the downward spiral of stress-panic. The nausea passes, and he uncurls himself enough to take Skwisgaar's hands, and look up at the Swede with those tired blue eyes that had given him a permanent wounded expression since birth.
"I'm sorry," he says, his voice rough with tears but calm. "I'm sorry we ever had to end up like this. I'm sorry you had to fall in love with someone too damaged to understand it. I'm sorry for everything that's ever happened to you that makes us this alike. I think... maybe it's about time I tried to fix myself, huh?"