Another cold laugh at that. If he works hard enough. That's all he's been doing for seven years, no, since he was a boy.

But he feels a little better. Not soothed, just less pressure boiling inside him. He can't quite manage to say it. The shame of having been so needy, of either having been terrible or having been dramatic in thinking it, still hovers there, and he doesn't want to take any more from David. He sees that shake. Sees that exhaustion.

Maybe some day he'll be able to process that David wants to hear him. Even when things are hard.

Today, David's comment is a blessed change of focus. "Of course I do," he says before David even gets his name out.