Raju looks at him, the knit brow, the pleading look on his face. Raju's chest heaves with his breath. He leans in for a kiss, more careful than the last, then pulls away, and his next kiss is shorter, and the one after shorter than that. When he pulls back a third time Francis' face is still close, and dear, and his body is healing and delicate, and regret steals over the devotion on Raju's face.

"I... I won't... let you down. You don't have to look at me that way." The way he'd looked when Raju had stopped kissing him. Like it will hurt if Raju doesn't. His hand moves to the side of Francis' face, fingers curling as if resisting the urge to grip, and brushing instead against Francis' skin. "But I can't— I won't... hurt you. You're hurting enough already because of something I..."

But it's true, isn't it? The fact that it's hard to say doesn't change that. He has to push the rest of the sentence through, and his throat half-strangles it on the way out. "...something I did. You need to heal."