"Are you--" He actually presses forward and jams an elbow on the table to lean towards Daisy, and the husk in his voice thickens as he tries not to growl.

"Are you fucking kidding me? You don't get to compare yourself to a teenage girl--" with a sharp, broad gesture "--an emo, teenage girl - for losing her shit. You know better. And what you fucking do is pick yourself up and keep fucking going, 'cos like hell is anyone else gonna put in the effort unless you do it fucking first."

He leans back, his ears pressing back at a pointedly annoyed angle. "If you're weird about killing people? Everyone else is gonna be weird about you. You fucked up. So own it and fucking move on."