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¬ HILN 

His fingers dug into the sheets. "I can't see—"

"Still look at me. Face me," I countered. He was sorry, he felt sorry, but he could not bear to look me in the face even if he had lost his sight?

He obliged and raised his head. His whole being screamed uneasiness and for a split second, he squeezed his eyes shut trying to compose himself. I stared intensely just as a stoic mask came over his features and then vanished just as they had appeared. He was tearing up inside. Let him. He deserved it, but I also didn't want to know this. It made me aware of what he was sorry for.

It was a struggle to regain my composure. "You're not being specific. Describe everything."

His eyes shifted to the side and his lips lightly stretched into a small smile. It was a miserable one. 

He then sighed. "I am very sorry for… hitting you." His lips twisted in disgust. Disgust at himself. "For my overall treatment of—" 

"How did you treat me?"