Duck Lake are you worth your weight in gold, cause you're behind my eyelids when i'm all alone

He sort of wanted to shrivel up and die. The compliment was definitely out of pity, he decided. Nevermind that he didn't suspect Mahler was the type to do things out of pity— it was the only explanation that made any sense to him. And either way, he just wanted a change of subject now.
Um, I— thank you, He managed to choke out before he had to pause, not sounding at all like he believed Mahler. He swallowed hard and took a breath, trying to collect himself before he died of his own embarrassment. Really, though, it's fine. I can handle rejection, I just— I just don't want to talk about it. We can talk about anything else— hell, the ducks, even. Or uhh, I can tell you about my psychotic brother who keeps trying to murder me— or plants? Anything, god, please. Okay, time to breathe and regret that rambling mess.