[He feels cold. His chest is tight with a fury he doesn’t understand, and he grits his teeth.]

Who do you think you are? You say you barely know me but you’re confident enough to say things like that?

[He laughs, forced and manic at the same time, trying to get his legs under himself so he can get up and leave but still feeling just this side of weak and uncoordinated to actually be successful.

He hisses.]

Why won’t you just leave already?

[He just wants to be left alone in his misery and hurt. That shouldn’t be too much to ask for.

He does a poor job of keeping those feelings out of his voice, though.]