"Yeah but then I'd have to explain the whole thing to them, and they'd have to not be dicks about it and ask me what I did to deserve it, and it's a whole mess and I... I'm sorry you - I shouldn't have shown you, I made you uncomfortable. And I don't want that and I..."
Fuck. His body language turns immediately and obviously defensive - shoulders hunching up, chin tucking down, arms hanging in front of him. "Sorry. I'm messing everything up. I'm sorry."
Because it's his fault. He's always the one who gets blamed so clearly it's all his fault, right? If anyone else is uncomfortable in a situation he's in it's obviously something he did. He looks away, his breath held as he waits for either the other to walk away or for him to get yelled at or hit or something. Some sort of nasty comment, at least - probably about how he shouldn't have come back if he's going to act like this.
So he holds his breath and he waits for it. Because it always comes. Always. It's been his whole life. How could he expect anything to go well for him? He's a freak and a loser and he's just shown his hand - or leg, as the case may be - and Shang Qinghua is going to laugh at him or, at best, just walk away.
He ignores the pit of dread in his stomach - he's used to that feeling. The feeling of being judged and hated simply for existing, for trying his best and failing and just... it's fine. It's fine. It's his fault for having hope anyway.
cw: EXTREME self-loathing and (past) emotional abuse (it's bad enough to warn for it)
Fuck. His body language turns immediately and obviously defensive - shoulders hunching up, chin tucking down, arms hanging in front of him. "Sorry. I'm messing everything up. I'm sorry."
Because it's his fault. He's always the one who gets blamed so clearly it's all his fault, right? If anyone else is uncomfortable in a situation he's in it's obviously something he did. He looks away, his breath held as he waits for either the other to walk away or for him to get yelled at or hit or something. Some sort of nasty comment, at least - probably about how he shouldn't have come back if he's going to act like this.
So he holds his breath and he waits for it. Because it always comes. Always. It's been his whole life. How could he expect anything to go well for him? He's a freak and a loser and he's just shown his hand - or leg, as the case may be - and Shang Qinghua is going to laugh at him or, at best, just walk away.
He ignores the pit of dread in his stomach - he's used to that feeling. The feeling of being judged and hated simply for existing, for trying his best and failing and just... it's fine. It's fine. It's his fault for having hope anyway.