( Gaon's hand is all heat, Yohan tries to focus on that as his thoughts crowd at the forefront of his skull. Had he a reason for coming? If he did, he doesn't remember it now. The anger swirls, swells. But it all pales in comparison to the man being here, right in front of him. He looks tired. Yohan can see that, he understands that. )

How did your date go?

( It comes out too bitter, he finds himself blinking at his own tone, stumbling forward to snag his fingers in Gaon's shirt sleeve, holding too tight. ) No, I don't care. I don't want to know. That's not what I came here for. I want to tell you that it isn't fair. You're not being fair. You weren't supposed to - to let go entirely. I was careful, I did everything the way I was meant to. So why -?

( It's loss, not anger. He realises it a little too late, standing there in the dark, his stomach sour with alcohol and all the terrible grief he has swallowed down throughout the years. He feels like a child ready to bawl because something has been taken away from him. He feels like the same angry thing he'd been before Isaac had told him to change. Gaon had been a balm, and he had not realised it. Now all the parts have begun aching again. )

You weren't supposed to go.