'It's revolting.' All the connotations of those words and none of them are positive in the least. Instantly, they've translated into something ugly and truly hurtful in Alan's head. You're revolting. He can't even look at you. And his chest aches, more intensely than before.

Of all the insensitive, horribly ill-timed things to ever reach his ears this one bothers him the most. A surge of red hot anger flares up and before he can stop himself his hand has moved and he's smacking Eric in the back of the head; a harsh sound straining it's way from his throat. He can't even properly form words for this outrage and hurt that is simmering inside.

He shifts slightly away from Eric, pointedly putting as much space as he can between them without leaving the couch. He takes a couple breaths easing down the sudden flare of tightness at his sudden flare of temper. "This morning. I was getting ready for work." His speech is slow and measured carefully concealing his anger and the slight flare up.