[For what is probably the first time in... well, in ever, Trowa is breathing hard as he speaks over the comms. He's obviously not running right then, though--there's no wind in the mic and no footsteps.]
I can't go back to--[a pause; then, mildly bitter]--I need somewhere to stay.
It's... October 2nd now.
[Doesn't even bother hiding his
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You're back.
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[Softly:]
...I am.
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How long was I missing?
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Go away.
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[More so because he himself committed it as well. If it hurts the blond... then it hurts him, too.]
I want to be alone.
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...Yeah.
[It's that football thing, isn't it? Should he say something? Maybe if he apologizes, he won't have to talk about it... nnngh. This is one of those things he usually asks Quatre for help with, but that's not an option at the moment.]
[Quiet.]
Sorry. For missing practice.
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[he groans]
Wait a minute, you think that's what I'm worried about? You DIED! That's what I was worried about! Jeez, you are such a fuckin' idiot!
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...Oh.
[To hell with it; the night can't get any worse. Or if it can, he at least won't be surprised by it doing so.]
Private
...Bakura said you saw 'me'.
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