[ A held breath goes released in a tense sigh when he's met with that small shift of expression, the statement that's a question. He knows what he wants to say, but how to say it without blowing anything up? ]

I don't. [ Confirmation. Somewhere to start. Nothing for a beat or two as he struggles, looking anywhere but at the man he's come to see, grappling with his thoughts. ] I'm sorry, I didn't mean to—

[ No, bad. He sucks in a breath to kill the attempt and lapses into another brief quiet with his mouth screwed shut, glancing away, fingers curling into a loose fist that amplifies his tremors. His focus lands after a moment or two on the cigarette in Takeshi's hand. With a great effort made to get himself over the hurdle of his silence, he tries again. ]

I don't know what I'm doing. Here. This, I'm...

[ Gaze lifts, fixes finally on Takeshi's face, and his expression now is wide open, painfully bare, imploring. ]

If I'm going to screw it up, I don't want it to be for want of trying. I'm done hiding from you, Takeshi, I want to talk.