[Terry sat there, and because eye contact is something he failed at royally, he still looked down at the phone. He went over his resolve from the train and tried to build it back up. There was something of a long, very awkward pause, that really was entirely his fault. And worse. He knew it. Because how the hell was he supposed to respond to something like that? He didn't know how.
Words. Right.
He could do words.
....Right.]
...I don't know what it is you want. From this. ...From...me.
[And that wasn't so much "words" as "stalling having to talk himself." But who's really keeping track. Right? Besides, if he was the one that said...whatever he was thinking, then, inevitably, when he screws it up, it'll have been his fault that this went any further than some awkwardness to get past between them.
[Action] For the record. Trauma's an idiot.
Words. Right.
He could do words.
....Right.]
...I don't know what it is you want. From this. ...From...me.
[And that wasn't so much "words" as "stalling having to talk himself." But who's really keeping track. Right? Besides, if he was the one that said...whatever he was thinking, then, inevitably, when he screws it up, it'll have been his fault that this went any further than some awkwardness to get past between them.