Theo flinched as Greg touched him, a hard and visible movement as though his lover's touch burned. He relaxed back to the touch when he realised that it was only Greg, a hand that wouldn't hurt him, but he was still twisted and torn up inside from what Greg had said.
He wasn't sure about the comfort Greg was trying to give, but the tone made sense to him even though the words didn't. He relaxed as Greg pet him but then the boy said something that stirred up the hornet's nest that was Theo's head. "I'm not sick!" he said, more passionate than he'd ever, ever been, but angry, or frustrated or hurt or confused this time. He got up and paced, turning and pushing fingers into his own hair to tug at it because he didn't have his wand or the strength to destroy anything else.