The kiss is too much. He feels it like the song that glass makes when it is on the verge of breaking, and what is threatening to break free within him, he cannot let loose. It feels too good, too right, too comforting, it feels like his breath catching in his throat, his body on the verge of shuddering.

"No," he says, pushing Rufus down. One more quit hit of that Full-Cure materia, to Rufus's wrist this time. He's not even gentle about it—expedience is more important. He needs to be far from here as soon as possible.

Maybe he never should have come at all. His anger is twisted now, and he's not sure how to combat something that makes him want to cut and hurt and drop to his knees and cry all at once. He can bring himself to do none of those things, so his only option is to leave Rufus there, trying so hard not to look at him, to consider the consequences of leaving him like this. To slip out the door as if it means nothing when all it means is everything, everything he's always been and ever wanted for himself, left behind and all alone.