He was getting really, truly sick of this and in short order. For weeks, months he had been trying to keep himself in check, to make sure that his dark little secret didn't leak out and destroy the happy little lives they had all built for themselves here. For himself as much as anyone, but now that he stood here, feeling the weight of Sookie's look, the changes in his behavior listed out like guilty burdens he was supposed to carry, Mitchell had to wonder if this really was doing him any favors. He had enough guilt to contend with, to make amends for, to wrestle with without Sookie adding more to it.
He knew full well what he was and what that meant. He knew the life he had to lead, the constant atoning that would do no good, the constant fuck ups that only set him back further. He knew that this was terrible, yes, but just another drop in the bucket compared to all his other sins. Mitchell got it. It looked more and more like Sookie didn't.
Now he seemed calm, on the surface, a thin layer of coolness spread over not nervousness, but that low-bubbling anger hinted at before. Why did he have to justify himself? Why did he have to explain? Because Sookie couldn't do it her own self. "You came here for a reason, Sookie. You got a bunch of clippings that paint the picture of a murderer and you came here. So why can't you just say it?" The smile that spread over his face was far from warm and in no way meant to reassure her. "You want some straight talk? Why don't you start."
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He was getting really, truly sick of this and in short order. For weeks, months he had been trying to keep himself in check, to make sure that his dark little secret didn't leak out and destroy the happy little lives they had all built for themselves here. For himself as much as anyone, but now that he stood here, feeling the weight of Sookie's look, the changes in his behavior listed out like guilty burdens he was supposed to carry, Mitchell had to wonder if this really was doing him any favors. He had enough guilt to contend with, to make amends for, to wrestle with without Sookie adding more to it.
He knew full well what he was and what that meant. He knew the life he had to lead, the constant atoning that would do no good, the constant fuck ups that only set him back further. He knew that this was terrible, yes, but just another drop in the bucket compared to all his other sins. Mitchell got it. It looked more and more like Sookie didn't.
Now he seemed calm, on the surface, a thin layer of coolness spread over not nervousness, but that low-bubbling anger hinted at before. Why did he have to justify himself? Why did he have to explain? Because Sookie couldn't do it her own self. "You came here for a reason, Sookie. You got a bunch of clippings that paint the picture of a murderer and you came here. So why can't you just say it?" The smile that spread over his face was far from warm and in no way meant to reassure her. "You want some straight talk? Why don't you start."