[Now Mickey is wandering back out into unfamiliar territory. If he's not used to worrying about people, and definitely not used to admitting it aloud, he's even less used to the words I'm sorry -- in this context, or really in almost any context. He shrugs stiffly, at a loss.]
We're supposed to be friends, right?
[Another low mumble, hands moving over each other, eyes trying to find something to land on. A moment later, unable to contain the new flood of anxious energy anymore, he nudges Cassel's shoulder again and stands, making like he's looking for something. He grabs an errant towel and scrubs the lingering sweat from his forehead.]
spam
We're supposed to be friends, right?
[Another low mumble, hands moving over each other, eyes trying to find something to land on. A moment later, unable to contain the new flood of anxious energy anymore, he nudges Cassel's shoulder again and stands, making like he's looking for something. He grabs an errant towel and scrubs the lingering sweat from his forehead.]