He laughs, dry and soft. "Not so much at the moment. Told you. We're done." He turns again, like he's about to walk out of the hut, and then turns back with his eyes glittering and fastened on Tom's face. His palms are sweating and he closes them into fists at his sides.
"Sometimes," he says, very quietly, "it's really just about me."
no subject
"Sometimes," he says, very quietly, "it's really just about me."