"We tried to be better, but we aren't. I don't think anyone could last more than a week here if they weren't willing to do bad things." - Alba Reyes

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Violent-Medic
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He did flinch when she raised her leg, instinctively moving his legs closer together. But she didn't kick him. But how she tensed and what she said… that was way worse.

Shit.

Shit, shit, shit.

This is exactly the conversation that Danny always tried to avoid. He always sent texts and just crouched while walking past classrooms because that was always so much easier. This, however, was a giant, red neon 'you are an asshole and that doesn't change because you tried to ignore it' sign.

He considered running. Heavily considered running. He even moved one foot back, like he was about to turn tail and sprint off, like he'd attempted to do at the beginning of this conversation. But after a moment of consideration he shifted his foot back again, crossing his arms and covering his face for a moment with one hand.

He was here. And they were having this talk. Running could be done. But… running when she was giving him that look? Even he wasn't that bad.

“I… I know.”

Danny couldn't look at her face. So he just stared at the ground.

“Look, Fi… I… fuck, uh...”

He shifted weight onto one leg, then back again, bouncing a little as he mulled over his words.

“I… I was a jerk. I… I do know I was a jerk. I just… I panicked, and I made excuses and I ran. And I didn't explain why because I still don't know why! But… I was an asshole, and I… I treated you like shit, and I'm sorry. And you… you so deserve to be mad.”

He fidgeted with his fingers for a moment.

“...And you can kick me in the crotch if you really want to.”
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