Redsand Canyon I don't know the half of it anymore

The soft sound of her voice made him pause. She must have finally realized he was there. Honestly, he was glad she had; it might have been the only way he would ask for what he really needed. 

There was obvious concern in her voice when she spoke again; it felt strange, like a mixture of warmth and panic. He wanted to tell her was fine and apologize for disturbing her before turning away again to leave. But he also needed to share some of the weight of his emotions with someone he trusted, even if only for a short time. 

He was obviously frozen with indecision. He looked between her and the fog in the distance a few times while he tried to decide how he would answer her.

Um—I don't know— the auxillary finally said as he shook his head. Not really. The admission quiet. His shoulders sagged a little in defeat. He knew he wanted to talk but he couldn't make himself ask for it. His fear was a weakness. Shame stung painfully in his chest.