[ He doesn't need to. He can do it later, when he's alone, when he can drive out on one of the remote trails and gaze up at the stars through the trees. But his body is doing it anyway, wetting his face when he doesn't want it to. He wipes his hands over his face, but it never seems to be enough to catch up.
The question, though, catches Hector off guard. He whips around to look at Yael, his eyes puffy and red, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. But his brows are quirked, confused by the sudden change in direction in their conversation. ]
What? [ His voice is nasal, too. He reaches up to wipe away that tear. ] You want me to dox myself?
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The question, though, catches Hector off guard. He whips around to look at Yael, his eyes puffy and red, a stray tear rolling down his cheek. But his brows are quirked, confused by the sudden change in direction in their conversation. ]
What? [ His voice is nasal, too. He reaches up to wipe away that tear. ] You want me to dox myself?