Broken Antler Fen Is where you go when you're alone

Penn frowned at her recollection of their conversation, dramatically quirking one brow as an illustration of his disbelief. She clearly hadn't heard a word he'd said. Or rather, she'd heard him but had decided to take from it whatever best suited her determination to stay pissed at him. He'd heard that women do shit like this, but that was why he'd always liked Fenn. She wasn't like other girls. Except for a few similarities, apparently.

"Wow. Blind and deaf," Penn commented, shaking his head at her, "You're really levelling up these days." He paused for a moment, talking himself into apologizing again for what had happened. It chaffed, especially since he'd done it what--a hundred times now? (Not even once). But, although he liked Fenn when she was angry, he much preferred she be a little less angry. At least at him.

"All I was trying to say was that the whole situation was fucked up," Penn said finally with a sigh, "I fucked up. It was shitty for me to just leave that way. I had my reasons, but I still could've done things different. And I'm... sorry... for it." God, sorry was such a gross word. It tasted awful in his mouth. After this, he'd make sure he never had to say it again. Not by not doing things he ought to be sorry for, but by being better at getting away with them.