"It would be pretty nice to not be as nervous or insecure about things," Thomas mumbled, sighing and shutting his eyes. "I'll take your word for it."

When it came to other people, other people who cared about him, he wanted to be something other than cruel and hated. He didn't want to be someone that people saw in a dream and remembered with fear or hate. He wanted to be better.

"You're old," Thomas quipped, shifting away and wincing at the chill in the room and the stickiness on his legs. He could have done without all that.