Son of a Witch

Even if it was ultimately only an illusion, the presumed privacy Billy was able to feel once left to shower allowed those walls to truly crumble. Not that he had been doing a particularly good job in holding back his emotions, they were displayed plain as day for anyone to read, but if his red rimmed eyes were evidence he had indulged in a moment of self pity under the cover of the water. He'd also tried fruitlessly to tamper with his ear mods, earning that ear splitting pain that brought him to his knees.

It meant at least that he wasn't up for much mischief when he emerged, still damp, to sit on the Asset's bed. His eyes skirted about, not that there was much to see, and he shifted uneasily, feeling like he was trespassing in a space that wasn't his. (Though it hardly seemed to be the Asset's either.)

He hurriedly swiped at his damp cheeks when the Asset returned, averting his gaze and straightening to try and cover for his embarrassment, sure that tears would get him no where with him. "Hey-" he greeted reflectively.