[ Like before, he doesn't fight Dhaos when he touches him. He's too exhausted to put up a struggle, and Dhaos is the only person here whose touch he doesn't actually hate.]

...not that way. [ He takes a deep breath and forces himself to cry less, if only so he can talk.]

For getting close to others. I know it can only lead to one thing, and I did it anyway. [ And he was doing it again right now, and he hated it. He needs to do something, anything, so he takes off his gloves (which are beyond ruined at this point) and stares at his blackened hands.

They remind him of who he is, who he should be, a person who kills others. A person who isn't weighed down by emotions, whose mind is clear.]

...she asked me a week ago if she should be the person she really was. I told her yes.