"I miss knowing exactly where I shelved each and every last one of my emotions?" Atton offered, shooting him a sideways glance. They'd talked about that before, he was pretty sure, when he was doing a whole lot less good at some semblance of functional.

"I used to. Then stuff happened, I ran off to Fandom, and then I spent six years just stuffing everything behind the one door because all my shelves broke."

He took another drag from his cigarette.

"Then she walked on in and the door broke, too. Now I just don't know what I'm doing."