[ it would have been better if he had protested. It would have given Sharon a reason to fall back on familiarity, on that almost childish fury she threw at him when he did something idiotic and tried to laugh it off or refer to it as lightly as possible.

But this wasn't at his usual level of idiocy. This wasn't something she could forgive him for so easily, as much as she wanted to, as dearly as she wanted things between them to return to the way they'd been before he'd killed her. ]

I thought you'd learned... I truly thought by now, with the people around you, you'd finally come to accept the fact that you couldn't do everything on your own...

[ Now, her voice breaks under the force of Sharon's anger, the vast amount of emotion a little too much for her throat to handle without lapsing into an almost-whispery scream every so often. She'd decided not to cry, long before she'd called him, but so much for that plan; the tears are spilling forth anyway, because she is scared, that if she can't get through to him, if she can't make him realize, there won't be anything left to salvage. She needs him to try, not to fold so pitifully like this.

And it's why she keeps going, hands now balled into shaking fists at her side, as fiercely as she can manage. ]

But you-- just what is it, Break? What is it that makes you try and do everything on your own when it never works out the way you expected?! Why can't you just-- for once--