Trauma took it back and shoved it into the microwave with more force than was really needed, again. It's more the being forced to actually think this shit through that's frying the everloving fuck out of his brain. And with the flicker of recognition he picks up when her brain goes in the direction of Brother Blood, he puts up his hands and hopes that counts for enough of a defeat because yes, he knows he's bitching, and yes. Touchy subject. Got it.

He doesn't apologize, because that's admitting how tuned in he is to her head, but he does tone it down.

He waited until the microwave went off again, and his time he checked the food himself before handing it back, with a little less attitude this time.

"Look. I just...I think I keep missing half the lectures because people are there and worrying about tests or...the darkness." He said finally. "It's exhausting. People are exhausting."