"You think I don't know that?!" Klaus whirls around, fists clenched at his sides, fury making his shoulders shake.
"You think I don't know that it takes work?! What the hell do you think I've been doing, huh? I've been training with Ben, and working with Anathema, and after all the bullshit with the journal? Even Vanya and I are patched up- Hell! I even showed up to the fucking apocalypse! But it feels like- It feels like-" He gestures, huffs, and crosses his arms tightly. His nails are digging into his arms, his foot tapping as he tries to find his words.
"It feels like no matter what I do, you and Allison are going to throw this shit back in my face. Hell! On our birthday, I told Allison she was hard to shop for and she ended up pretty much telling me I might as well not live here! Do you have any idea how weird it feels having a place to call my own? Before coming here, the most 'stable' place to sleep I had was an army tent that moved encampments, or rehab, or jail." His hands are curled, and behind him he can hear the crack of porcelain as the mugs behind him start to crack from the base up, a conduit for all his anger and frustration.
"I am trying, Diego! But it feels like it's never good enough for you or Allison, and frankly? I'm sick of being made to feel like shit while I'm trying to make progress!"
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"You think I don't know that it takes work?! What the hell do you think I've been doing, huh? I've been training with Ben, and working with Anathema, and after all the bullshit with the journal? Even Vanya and I are patched up- Hell! I even showed up to the fucking apocalypse! But it feels like- It feels like-" He gestures, huffs, and crosses his arms tightly. His nails are digging into his arms, his foot tapping as he tries to find his words.
"It feels like no matter what I do, you and Allison are going to throw this shit back in my face. Hell! On our birthday, I told Allison she was hard to shop for and she ended up pretty much telling me I might as well not live here! Do you have any idea how weird it feels having a place to call my own? Before coming here, the most 'stable' place to sleep I had was an army tent that moved encampments, or rehab, or jail." His hands are curled, and behind him he can hear the crack of porcelain as the mugs behind him start to crack from the base up, a conduit for all his anger and frustration.
"I am trying, Diego! But it feels like it's never good enough for you or Allison, and frankly? I'm sick of being made to feel like shit while I'm trying to make progress!"