And how should I know what goes in the block of his head? If you ask me, who am I to ask? No, he's a confounding man with his own confounding logic, and it's enough for me to know that he doesn't intend to tell me.

[ kaveh's hand scrapes through midnight's hair, a little rougher now. a little more, because kaveh has suddenly found that he has more in him. to give, to express, to burn. ] It doesn't matter. He made a choice in deflecting. A choice, and I am capable of condemning that choice, just as I am powerless to force the issue.

There. We're not on speaking terms. And that's what the bruise is all about.