"You know what," he says wearily, palming sweat off his face. "The fuck's been with you the past couple days? Pretty sure I pissed you off somehow, but I guess I'm too stupid to figure it out on my own, so if you could toss me a hint that'd be fantastic."

The words are his old acidity, but there's none of it in his voice. Just that weariness and some irritation, and a healthy dose of genuine confusion. He honestly doesn't know what he could have done to cause this. And now that he thinks about it, it's been eating at him.