Zack stared at the door. This was ridiculous, and he knew it. He'd been standing in front of the door for the better part of a minute, staring at it like an idiot, and his hands were sweating under the leather of his gloves. This was supposed to be a good thing, and still could turn out that way; there was no reason to act as though he were facing
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"Um. So."
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"I'm sorry. Zack--" Drawing a deep breath to calm himself, and letting it out in a sigh, he managed, "You said you thought I felt guilty for the wrong things. What is it that I do not understand I have done?"
Never having been the best at concealing his expressions, Angeal looked a lot like Zack felt. The past weeks had been too much, and he had no idea what was going on, half the time, in this place.
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"I can't really explain without sounding stupid and melodramatic. And really emo. Really, every bad stereotype." He fumbled for words. "I don't know how to say it without making you uncomfortable. I can't just ...turn off what I used to feel."
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