"No, it's..." He trails off, looking over at Michael finally. His eyes are wet, slightly red-ringed, but he isn't crying. Anymore.

"It doesn't usually bother me. It's... kinda nice, actually, normally. But... I think when I woke up in this body, it... didn't take my ability with it? It feels too big, and when you're — anyone, really — worried for me, it's this, like, targeted feeling? So, it feels like someone's poking at a really sore bruise, and normally, it feels like. Well, like this." He gestures to Michael's hand on his back, a gentle, warm weight. "I'm sorry. I should've tried to be, like, clearer, it's just. It's hard right now."