It's days like this when he thinks that it's all he can do to simply not break down, to try to keep strong as he gives in to addiction.
Strength has never been his strong suit. He's small, girlish as his fingers hastily unwrap half-melted bars of chocolate. It's days like this that make him feel the weakest, when all he can do is try.
He threads his fingers through soft, burgundy red hair. Patient.
He lets his only source of comfort fall from his fingers.
It's days like this that it's all he can do to just hold on.