The— okay, sure. [Sure, why not, that's hardly the weirdest thing that's even been said in the past five minutes. Why doesn't he get to talk to cats...

Unimportant; important is Charles and his unwavering support, the way he says he'll always be there and Junpei believes it, because he has been. Leaning down to kiss him feels like a punctuation mark on that, tying it off with a silent acknowledgement, yes, he knows, and he's lucky for it.

He lingers close, hovering there, brow knit. The sick and greasy thing that lives in his stomach twists into another impossible knot, darkens his thoughts in a bid to not be mentioned, no matter how many insane things he's already said that Charles has accepted, surely, surely... He hasn't asked anything else, so therefore, Junpei is off the hook, he doesn't have to say anything else, and that's going back on his word already, huh.]

I don't know how to say any of this without blowing it off, [he says, so, fair warning if he somehow turns this into a "yippee, life sucks!" moment again, in advance,] But I think I... hang on.

[Hold on, one moment please. Hmnh.] All of that shit, I think it fucked me up real bad? I mean, I should at least cry about it, right? What the hell is wrong with me?