Redhawk Caldera When lightning crashes the sunrise

No, he blurted, then sucked in a sharp breath.

No, he didn’t think he could handle it. He knew he couldn’t. Case in point: his reaction when Inkeri had told him about it. Atreus hadn’t meant to say that outright or at all but as his lips puckered and his eyes desperately sought his friend’s, he knew he couldn’t take back the words.

He could add onto them, however, and did, saying, I don’t want to just, like, abandon her. But I don’t know if I can even be the friend she needs, much less anything more. I told you! I’m a complete piece of shit!

He pulled away from her and brought his paws up to cover his face. Why was he like this? He was young and inexperienced, sure, but Atreus wasn’t so immature that he couldn’t handle some things like an adult. It was just that intimacy was already tricky enough for him without all the extra baggage…

Guilt soured his stomach. His paws dragged down his face, pulling the skin beneath his eyes. Atreus couldn’t look at Amalia now, instead glancing sideways with a sniff. Would she think less of him for his behavior and his honesty? He supposed he deserved that too.