[The jerking should make him let go an back off, but he's too busy trying to process what Jesse just said. Hasn't the dude already fucked it up with Lisbeth anyway, if they're not together anymore? It's probably not time to point that out, though. Stanley just sighs, and sinks own into a partial crouch again. Either his knees aren't working properly due to being fucking frozen, or his knees aren't working properly for the same reason his stomach is in knots and his hands are still shaking.
He decides it'll look less stupid to just sit own, pries his fingers off of Jesse's shirt and sinks to take a seat on the floor. This time he doesn't look up again. He's mad at Jesse. He's really mad at Jesse. He has to keep thinking about it, because it's tough to feel it right now. Tough to let go and sit own and try to act normal, because none of this is normal. It's a lot to handle. Whatever Jesse might say, he's obviously not alright either. Guys don't flinch away from Stan. He's not stupid. Well... only a little stupid, anyway.]
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He decides it'll look less stupid to just sit own, pries his fingers off of Jesse's shirt and sinks to take a seat on the floor. This time he doesn't look up again. He's mad at Jesse. He's really mad at Jesse. He has to keep thinking about it, because it's tough to feel it right now. Tough to let go and sit own and try to act normal, because none of this is normal. It's a lot to handle. Whatever Jesse might say, he's obviously not alright either. Guys don't flinch away from Stan. He's not stupid. Well... only a little stupid, anyway.]
She was sad. She missed you.