[He draws in a long, slow breath, and walks across the space between them to reach out and take Akira by his upper arms, squeezing gently.]

I don't want you to push me into things or make decisions for me. You know better than most how much I hate things being done for me. I don't understand why so much of your self-worth and your fucking personality is dependent on making the people around you happy, but I need you to discard that with regard of me. [He looks him in the eye, his expression pulled tight and nearly pleading.] I haven't been able to pursue things that make me happy since I was eight, Akira. At the very least, give me more than a few days after waking up from a fake happiness being shoved down my throat to figure out if I'm willing to chance trying again.