[... He still doesn't know what to make of it, honestly, and for a moment he's clearly struggling with words before he looks away sharply.
There's still an urge there, an urge to reach for Otome's sleeve or hand or... he still remembers when she'd hugged him, and even before he'd panicked over it, it had been warm and loving and--
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[... He still doesn't know what to make of it, honestly, and for a moment he's clearly struggling with words before he looks away sharply.
There's still an urge there, an urge to reach for Otome's sleeve or hand or... he still remembers when she'd hugged him, and even before he'd panicked over it, it had been warm and loving and--
That's not right, he knows it's not.]
... I am not...myself, at the moment.