"Shut up!" he said. 'You... are more than that to me. You are so precious,' he wanted to tell her that. He wanted to but he couldn't. Cause it doesn't matter. Her being precious and important doesn't matter.
It was not what she wanted to hear. He understood clearly that only him confessing his feeling could calm her down and that, he could not do... Not anytime soon.
He wanted to tell her that she meant the world to him. He wanted to tell her that without her he would be nothing. But none of the words he was willing to say could calm her down at that moment. He won't be able to say what she wanted to hear anyway. So all he could do was beg her to stop crying. He had hurt her enough. He had hurt her enough and he had hurt himself enough too. He hated him for being this. He hated himself more than anything at that moment for hurting her.
