"A lot," he breathed, dragging his knuckles across his forehead and grimacing. "I have to fix...me, and get better. So I stop...messing up. I keep trying to, but."

He stopped, digging a knuckle in the space between his eyebrows until it hurt, twisting and letting the hand go again. So much for fixing things; wasn't he falling into the same bad habit right then and there?

"I'm not supposed to talk to anybody," he muttered to the ground and her shoes. "People. I have to stop."