[The tapping fingers tighten into the fabric of his suit jacket, so tight his knuckles turn white, shoulders shaking. He's only able to half-swallow his sob and tucks his face into the crook of his arm.]
It...it's very often. [His voice is small and he can't bring himself to admit that "very often" is in fact "nearly constant", though the unspoken likely does that for him. ]
[He's shifted so his face is ducked from the camera, hair wound tightly in his fingers.] And I'm...unsure of where 'too much' starts, if there's rarely quiet at all.
no subject
He's only able to half-swallow his sob and tucks his face into the crook of his arm.]
It...it's very often. [His voice is small and he can't bring himself to admit that "very often" is in fact "nearly constant", though the unspoken likely does that for him. ]
[He's shifted so his face is ducked from the camera, hair wound tightly in his fingers.] And I'm...unsure of where 'too much' starts, if there's rarely quiet at all.